Portfolios > The Inevitability of Nina

Dear Nina,
It was December 1987. We arrived via a bumpy bus ride from Chetumal, with Reggae Christmas music playing the entire journey, the same album over and over. When we reached the Belize City bus station, an elderly Chinese woman approached us and offered us accommodation at her guesthouse. The upstairs room was extremely basic. It had two double beds and a door that led to the owner's bedroom. When the door opened, clucking chickens wandered in and out, pecking at whatever was edible on the floor. The room was a notch above the many palapas we slept in on the Riviera Maya over the previous month, after meeting at the Poc-Na Hostel on Isla Mujeres. We bonded fast, two Irish girls, a German girl, and me (out of sensitivity, I won’t mention names). The two Irish girls slept in one bed, and I slept with the German girl in the other (I’ll call her ‘A’).

Sexual tension had already been brewing between ‘A’ and me. It was familiar, not new. After my first sexual experience, being violated by an older man, my sense of attraction somehow survived. Fear of intimacy was another story. Each time the door opened to the possibility, it slammed shut even faster. Before I was traumatized, that fear was unfamiliar. I know it wasn’t present because I recall being ready with my first girlfriend. It didn’t happen then because she wasn’t as ready as I was, but that memory is preserved in a special place in my mind. Fifty years after the abuse, I read letters I wrote to my first girlfriend from the ship where the abuse happened. Why she kept the letters is another story. When I read them, I didn’t recognize the author because they were so incredibly romantic. The letters were in chronological order. As I was reading, the tone abruptly changed, and the frequency of my letters decreased. I realize now that it was because my sexual development had been interrupted. A major challenge for the rest of my life has been grappling with the consequences.

After dinner, we headed to a club frequented by British soldiers. As three women and one man, we seemed to cause a problem with some local guys. One became irate and threatened violence against me. He kept saying, "Why did I have three women?" or words to that effect. As violence against me seemed imminent, we reached the safety of the club. He did not follow. The club was lively. It was fun to be in the company of so many Brits, but my attitude changed when ‘A’ danced with a soldier. I was jealous, a sure sign I was in deep. I left the club with the Irish girls. ‘A’ stayed behind. My sleep was interrupted. ‘A’ was on top of me. My fear of intimacy was caught off guard. Although it's as old as biology itself, it’s difficult to convey the intensity of what happened. I was thirty-three years old, Nina. A bit late to have experienced such an initiation, don’t you think? From Belize City, we hired a small boat to make the short crossing to Caye Caulker, a small island on the reef. ‘A’ and I got our own room. One week later, ‘A’ and the Irish girls took a bus to Guatemala. I took a bus to Mexico City and then a flight to Denver. It would remain to be seen whether what transpired between me and ‘A’ would have a lasting effect. One certainty is that Belize City holds an important place in my psyche.
Love, Roddy