Rico, the Belizean bush doctor I had come to see, was out making a delivery. But his sister, Yolanda, had an offer for me. She was running a homemade raffle, offering two-dollar chances to win a case of beer, a case of stout, a bottle of wine and two cases of soft drinks.
But when would I be back in the Roaring Creek neighborhood of Belmopan to find out if I won? As I waffled, Gilbert, my guide, who lives clear across the country, was handing over rumpled bills and signing his name in Yolanda’s spiral notebook.
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