Friday Part B

Since we leave on Sunday, and its now Friday afternoon, we absolutely need something to do with the rest of the day.

What would any father suggest as an activity in a third world country on a day when most competent people are taking the day off? If you said "why Jason, clearly you should go parasailing" you're with me. If you gasped in horror and anticipation and said, "whatever you do, don't go PARASAILING!" you're a good parent and I need to give you a call sometime for tips and advice. But since you weren't around then, we went parasailing.

And it was fun. As proof, I present the first picture. In the second one, it looks like Sander is concerned that we may hit a giant floating tree or something. Anyway, it was great, you slowly lift up as the driver lets out the rope you're attached to. It's not the least bit jarring, and there's no feeling of "taking off" or a rollercoaster like stomach fall (hmmmmm, maybe I shouldn't mention "fall" when I'm writing about parasailing). So you slowly float upwards and the whole off the reef unfolds below you. Because its so clear you can see pretty much everything. Some folks we talked to when I was asking about the safety of the parasailing outfit (see?) said they saw sharks, and one person said they saw a hammerhead. We say stingrays, I think. Anyway, the third picture is our boat, we were really up there. Plus from waaaaay up there you could see the entire island. Really cool. The whole trip was incredibly smooth and it felt like you were hardly moving. Just as smooth as this author. That last picture is of a rainbow I saw, this was just before it started to absolutely pour. I should mention to all the mommies out there, that we were safely down on the boat when I took the picture of the rainbow and when it started raining. We weren't a giant lightning rod or anything (whew, right?). But, like all our other boat trips, we finished cold and wet.

After the parasailing we were off to finish a high stakes negotiation with a local street vendor. Before we went parasailing we were killing time looking at local wares, and he found a wooden shark he really loved. The guy said it was $35 US (the Belizian dollar is pegged 2-1 to the good ol' USD, so the two are accepted everywhere-I think the rest of the world should do this, sure makes it easy). And we moved on to other tables. While we were sitting on the dock waiting for our parasailing boat, he said that he really liked it, and could he have it. I told him he could buy it with his money (before you roll your eyes, I paid for the travel, the room, the food and all the trips, the little leech can pitch in for something. Right? Right? No, no, you're right. Put a big ol' check mark in the lousy daddy column. And like all bad decisions this one spirals totally out of control). He said "OK" and then to really push me over the top for "Lousy Daddy of the Year" I told him he had to go negotiate the sale. So we slicked back his hair and put a little Armani suit on him, but his documents in a brief case, and I gave him my cell phone and told him to periodically pick it up and yell into it, "I said SELL 1000 shares you moron, now get off your can and do it!" Anyway, we talked before he went in. I said he needs to figure out now the most he'll pay for the shark. He decided on $20. I told him that, at some point, the guy will definitely laugh at him and say something along the lines of "your crazy" but that the guys not really laughing at him, its just part of the negotiating game and not to get rattled by it. Also, and most importantly, that he's always free to just walk away if its not going like he wants or if he needs time to think. So, off my 8 year old boy goes to negotiate his first big deal against a local barter who was at least 6'2", 220lbs. Well here's what happened according to young Mr. Elliott. When he went in and asked about the shark the guy immediately dropped his price to $20 USD (our goal price). Great right? Nope. Sander figured that if he went down that much, that fast that he could probably get it for $15. So they haggled for a looooong time as I'm pacing in the restaurant down the beach (I can only see Sander's little legs and the guys big legs). At some point the guy tells Sander that $15 was a "horrible" offer and laughs (who called it baby?), as does the guy's two buddies. Bad move on the vendor guy's part. Now Sander's feeling like, "Oh no you din'nt" that the man was just rude and mean, and walks.

So we go get ice cream and talk it over. Beyond thinking there was no need to be insulting, Sander figured that while the guy may think its worth $20, and maybe did $20 worth of work, he strongly felt that was not worth $20. Can't argue with that. So I say, "listen, we're getting ready to leave. If you still want the shark at $15, go up to the guy and say that we're getting ready to leave, and that you'll pay $15 for the shark." He doesn't want to deal with the guy anymore, but he does really like the shark, so he says, "OK." He goes in with his money, and, and, and the guy...passes. Sander walks and that's that. Now, I have to say, I figured 100% he was going to get the shark. I mean, in the entire history of third world street vending, the immediate drop down price has never once been the final price. Ever. I'm not sure where this guy went to street vending school, but he needs a refresher course. So we leave sharkless. I'm trying to tell Sander that we now know the guy's bottom price is $20, since he was willing to let Sander walk twice, so there's no shame in paying $20. "Let's go get the shark" says this now horribly guilt ridden daddy. I mean he was soooo excited about that shark. He kept saying that he wanted to start collecting wooden sharks from all the places he visits, how cool they'll look in his room and he was jumping and skipping just thinking about it before this whole mess started. But your hero, Captain Cheapo has now blown all this to bits. "Nope," says Sander, "its not worth it." But I'm thinking, "Oh no little boy, you don't understand. I'll pay ANYTHING to rid myself of this guilt. Seriously, name the price." Remember the check mark I mentioned earlier? Well, now its turned into a big red "REJECTED" stamp on my daddy qualifications. But here's the thing, Sander was RIGHT. On the way out of town we passed another guy with a bigger, better shark with a starting price of $25 USD. Holy smokes! So I figure either the first vendor guy didn't want to get shown up in front of his boys by an 8 year old, or he figured he could sell it for $20 to some other sucker, but either way, Sander's instincts and complete immunity to pressure insured that he wasn't going to be that sucker. Very proud moment for this daddy. Oh, and we wound up getting an even larger, even better shark a few days later. Yes, I know a loooong story, but I was so proud of the boy.

That night we ate at a Greek restaurant run by Canadians. Yup, that's right folks, I found a Greek restaurant on a tiny island in Belize. Thus proving my long held theory that every town in the world is required to have a Greek restaurant or you don't get a charter. I guess its a little something the Greeks worked into the bylaws when they were inventing democracy.

So that was our Friday. Next up? You guessed it, Saturday.