Prince Charles Perez

It's not often that I give people money for talking with me. In fact, it usually irritates me to distraction when I am wandering around a new town and some man volunteers to be my "guide." But as Prince Charles Perez would want me to say, my short but sweet experience with the historian of the port was nearly un-Belize-able.

You see, I have been dubbed by Prince Charles himself, a tear in his eye and a manic fluttering of ordaining hands working their magic, an official goodwill ambassador to the country of Belize because of my exceptional memorization of his historical lesson as he walked me back to the dock in the early afternoon heat.

He explained the etymological origin of the name Belize: a Mayan goddess of exceptional beauty by the name of Belikini. It's also the origin of the name for that tasty beer they brew. He spouted off dates and names and events in as enthusiastic a manner as I've ever seen. He would stop me in the middle of the road to stress a certain point, "Why, Jenny, why would the Mayan descendants name their country 'muddy water?'" He stood with a furrowed brow as he refereed the common explanation for the name Belize. "That doesn't make sense now does it?" he said as he practically bent over in disgust at the cultural misunderstanding the English made so very long ago.

Reaching the gates of the Radisson (where I would soon after settle into a chair under vine covered branches and radio the boat to come pick me up), I was warmly bid farewell with a hug and a lock in. This, again, is not my regular practice to hug guides on sea side streets, but Prince Charles, well, you got to see him, hear him, laugh with him, to Belize him.