Mennonites of Belize

When we crossed the border into Belize, one of the first people we saw was a Mennonite lady . 
Dinh pointed, "Look honey!" he blurted out. 
"Yea, it's a Mennonite lady . What's the big deal?", I replied with one raised eyebrow.
Dinh was fascinated with these people and I had no idea why . Growing up in Minnesota, I had seen plenty of Mennonites. Seeing them in Belize was a little odd, but their physical appearance didn't shock me. 
Mennonites in Belize? Who knew?!!
But, there is actually quite a large community of Mennonites in Belize. I know... I was also bewildered.
One night in the town of San Ignacio, we decided to get some Chinese food. A family of Mennonites sat at the table next to us. I had to scold Dinh for staring at them. It was worse than me getting stared at in India. 
A travel nurse friend of mine had told me about this wonderful family she met while doing missionary work in Belize. We just had to meet them. They lived near San Ignacio, in a small town of about 1,500 people, called Spanish lookout. 

She said to ask anyone in town and they would point us in the right direction to find this family .
We went out on a limb when we left our hotel that day . I had no idea if we would actually find this nice family my friend had told me about. I felt a little funny just showing up at a stranger's house, but I knew Dinh was interested in their culture, so we had to at least try to find this family . It would be an adventure. What the heck.

We pulled into the town of Spanish Lookout and immediately notice a change. The speed limit signs were in mph and the roads were void of pot holes. Overall, there was a very orderly feeling to the town. 
We stopped at the first gas station we see. 
"I was wondering if you know Frank Plett?", I shyly asked the guy behind the counter, feeling a little awkward. 
This guy probably thinks I'm a weirdo, I thought. 
"Yes. You can find him at the lumber yard. Take your first left and you'll find it.", he replied in his German accent. 
The Mennonites speak Plautdiesch, which sounds a lot like German, but they also speak English.
I thanked him and we drove down the road, following his directions. However, we got side-tracked along the way when we saw an ice cream store. Hehe. 
Ice cream is our weakness.
All I can say is, this was top notch ice cream and it was definitely worth the stop. It's called Western Dairy . They aren't messin' around, they use real cream in the making of their helado (ice cream).
It was delicioso!
We dilly-dallied for a while in the ice cream shop, sitting in the booth, people watching. It was a popular place! Scarfed Mennonite ladies came in with their suspender-wearing husbands and walked away with smiles on their faces while taking bites of their ice cream. 

With bellies full of dairy, we focused again on our goal while we were in town: find the Plett family!
We found the lumber yard and no one was there. Except a man on a dirt bike, fixing to leave. I thought it was a dead end on our hunt.
"Excuse me, do you know where I can find Frank Plett?", I inquired.
Long story short, it turns out that the man was a son-in-law and ended up bringing us to the Plett family home. 
As we drove the 3 miles on the windey gravel roads, I couldn't believe how everything was working out just right for us to find this family . 
The son-in-law pointed at the house as he drove away , leaving us to fend for ourselves. As we coasted down the long gravel driveway , we see chickens in the yard, as well as a large dog. Their house was enormous, made out of wood, wood from their lumber yard. It was situated on a large piece of land, with calming green rolling hill views in all directions. 
While getting out of the car, I felt nervous, I didn't want to be intruding on them. Before we reached the door, a man came out of the front door to meet us. 
It was Frank. 
After explaining who I was and how we had ended up there, he graciously invited us into his home.
It was lunch time and they were all gathered around the kitchen table, eating tacos. 
Oops! I felt terrible for the bad timing, but they didn't seem to mind. They quickly made room for us to sit and easily made us feel at home. Frank's wife and daughters greeted us kindly . There are 5 kids in total.
We chit-chatted for over an hour around the table about various topics. Lots of laughs and shared insights. I really liked this family . I talked most with Pearl, one of the daughters I was sitting next to. She did a lot of humanitarian work around the world. A very impressive young lady . 

That afternoon, I felt like I was back in Minnesota. They're that kind of nice. Very welcoming people. It made me a little homesick and, once again, I realize how great it is to grow up in the Midwest. Down to earth people are the cat's pajamas :)
I didn't want to impose too long on this incredibly sweet family , and as we said our goodbyes, they walked us out to our car.
Like a dad looking out for his kids, Frank realized we had a tire that was low on air. Pearl helped us put air in it from their compressor and Frank made sure we knew exactly where to go to get it fixed in town.

Dinh and Frank

I felt like all worries had melted away while we were in this little safe community . I fully trusted these people, and even though we were in Belize, it felt very far from it. I didn't have to worry about anything bad happening to us while we were in this "safe bubble". 
Driving through the community to the tire place, it reminded me a lot of Minnesota. Cows, fields, gravel roads, farm houses. Except there were palm trees. Ha. 

A nice young man swiftly repaired the tire before we could even think to ask how much it would cost. We knew they would be honest. It cost only $6. 
We had a bad experience in Belize with not asking how much a meal cost before we ate. Bad idea. The locals will take advantage.
On our way out of town, we passed by a local roadside bakery . Don't mind if we do!
We met an incredibly warm man named Andrew and bought the most scrumptious homemade chocolate-oatmeal raisin cookies from him. He was curious of our California license plates, which turned into a lengthy conversation.

It was comforting to be around blonde hair, blue-eyed people once again. My people!
I didn't want to leave this safe haven. But, it was inevitable. 
What a great place Spanish Lookout is. Incredible. A utopia for Mennonites. So much different than the rest of Belize. 
The only way to live there is to be born into it or have one of the families sponsor you. You have to live on their land and sign a paper saying that you won't drink alcohol and that you will attend church. 
It's funny how the chain of events unraveled and allowed us to have this amazing experience with the Mennonites of Belize. Now Dinh is happy and doesn't stare as much as he used to. 
Thank you to the Plett family for all your hospitality!!