Page 37 of Rio
RIO
I’m already in Belize.Landed last night.
I’m sitting in the hotel lobby, sipping a rich cup of coffee fresh from the restaurant.It tastes different.Richer.Fresher.The weather here is warm and tropical.A pleasant contrast from the chilly, overcast and damp New York I’ve left behind.
I need to make a start on the day, even though the glittering pool beckons again.I checked into the best hotel here, at the Peninsula.I wasn’t expecting it to bethisgood, and my mouth fell open when I walked in.
I have a suite, like always, but I didn’t expect to have one here.Belize isn’t Turks & Caicos, so I’m pleasantly surprised.The hotel is sleek and opulent; all glass walls and white marble with limestone floors.The full-length windows along one side offer breathtaking views.I imagine the sunsets from here will be spectacular.There’s also a balcony that looks out onto a shimmering turquoise sea.
A balcony.
Just the thought of that takes me back to Raquel’s balcony in São Paulo.
Damn it.
I shake my head.
I came here to forget her.
Air-conditioning and room service.It has a fully stocked wet bar.Perfect.And I’ve had a refreshing night’s sleep in the super-king-sized bed.Crisp white linen.Fresh orchids in the vases.
My kind of luxury.
I had a quiet dinner by myself, some drinks too.Met Tomas Carrillo for drinks in the bar.He’s my contact here and the on-site logistics coordinator for Delport Realty, the company behind the eco resort.He’s a rugged guy in his fifties.A local and a family man with grandkids.He’s humble.Easy-going, with a weathered face.He knows the terrain, the people, and knows how to get things done.
Over rum and quiet conversation, we talked about the eco resort and the noise caused by EcoGuardians who have now mobilized the support of the locals.I need to find out their concerns, deal with them and put them to bed.
He started to hint at things.Off the record stuff.Warnings.The kind that suggest the resort’s promises come with a price, not just to the budget, but to the land and the people.Though he works on the project, he’s deeply rooted in the local community, and over rum and quiet conversation, he said a few things that made me wonder whose side he was on.There’s something about him; a quiet authority, some kind of moral compass he’s trying to keep hidden under all the logistics talk.
It got me wondering if everything is as clear cut as the old man said it was.This is still very much a construction site, with the final touches being made.As far as I’m aware, there should be no problem with it being ready to open in a month.
After Tomas left, I went through some papers, then got an early night.This morning, I woke up and swam a few laps in the hotel pool.Had a long, lazy breakfast with strong coffee and a view of the ocean.I’m not in a rush.I’ve got ten days.Plenty of time to fix this mess.
I’m meeting Tomas at the construction site today and later there are a handful of local government officials I need to meet with.Should be an easy day.
I check my phone and see an email from the old man.Short and sharp:
Don’t let this get out of hand.
As if I need a reminder.I know what needs to be done.Check on the construction site, see what trouble the NGO are causing.Maybe set up a meeting with a journalist or get the community together at the town hall and smooth over the local anger.
Simple.
This is going to be more of a vacation than anything else.If there’s evidence of wrong-doing, then I’ll have to deal with it.I know what the old man is like.I know he’s never above board with anything, especially business dealings.
Just look at Dani’s father, but luckily we fixed that injustice.Still, this isn’t a project we’re directly involved in.Delport Realty is, and maybe they have more morals than Knight Enterprises.
***
RAQUEL
I’m feeling more energized after the debrief at HQ and a light lunch, but I’m still hot and sweaty.Time is of the essence and I don’t want to waste a second.
We’re off to see the eco resort.We have temporary access to speak with the on-site workers and observe conditions firsthand, but Alma warns me that it’s still a construction site.
We set off, but decide to stop off at the coastline first.She takes me on a short tour, and I see the destruction up close.Mangroves gutted.Trees fallen.Scarred land where once there was forest.The breeze off the water can’t cool the heat in my chest.
She points out the damage as we go.I see everything and it makes me physically sick.Now I understand the quiet anger burning behind Alma’s eyes.If I had children, if I lived on a paradise island and outside companies run by people who don’t even live here—people with only money and capital at stake—started building their monstrosities, my blood would boil, too.
