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Travelblog 5 – Belize

I’ve been fortunate enough to travel quite a bit, and have run across chickens on several continents, even in urban areas. Camalote is the first place I recall being, however, where the roosters never sleep. If they do slumber, they must do it in shifts.

Perhaps it’s because chickens run free throughout the village, and the roosters are always either defending their territory from competing males or trying to attract more of the roaming hens. 

No matter, dawn has nothing to do with the noise-making: they crow matins at all hours of the day and night. 

At least one person in our party has had trouble sleeping, in part because of the constant crowing. I notice it, but it hasn’t bothered me much — a benefit of being nearly deaf in one ear is that I can turn my good ear to the pillow and shut out most annoying noises.

And there are plenty noises to annoy: during the day, groundskeepers trimming the cuhune palms and working with power tools have often interrupted my classes, and  the ubiquitous dogs are always barking about something. Early each morning, peddlers in pickup trucks slowly circle the village while constantly blowing their horns. They can be irritating. 

For some reason, though, the crowing birds haven’t bothered me. I just imagine that the roosters are happy to be alive as part of God’s creation, and celebrate their cacophony of high-pitched hallelujahs. 

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