Jo Mel In is a place that serves rice, beans, pork, habeneros and potato salad in goodly portions and worthy of their meritorious reputation. The bathrooms are seperated by a divider and men and women share a common washroom. Sparse but clean beyond acceptable.

– Justin Teerlinck

The unisex john in the joint has a full length mirror by the toilet. You only get three wishes when you look into it, so it only gets a 7. But owing to the facilities and their superior state of adequacy it does better than a 6.

– Justin Teerlinck

The toilet has a hubcab on a chain covering it up. Corrugated steel forms a roof. Ceiba trees grow wild a few feet away. Shack in paradise, or a little bit of it.

– Justin Teerlinck

After trying our luck as first time snorklers, we soothed our sunburns and headed where you go when you’re done snorking, the Sandbox.

Al Fresco dining in Caye Caulker is usually accompanied by liberal quantities of sand but in the case of the Sandbox, you’ll find it inside too. Strangely though the restrooms are exempt. The single entry women’s had a strange red light, dishwashing soap and a tile floor. Men’s had a yellow light and tile. The toilet top and vanity were made of wood.

– Justin Teerlinck

Here in Belize, splash protection is first priority. We found that there were few "public" restrooms on the island. Most businesses are very explicit about marking their territory for customers only. Many have signs in place offering to charge you a dollar or more. With four miles of island, one hotel room per customer and much to see and do in between, this can be a big hassle. I found creative ways to avoid paying. Why? Because I already support the local people with my patronage. Therefore, I ask them to support my bladder. Peeing in this country is not, however a sovereign right. Bus stations frequently charge 50 cents to one dollar – even if you’ve already purchased a ticket. I have no qualms about circumventing these rules. Wearing my floppy camoflage jungle hat (which I was told is what the British soldiers here wear) I walked right passed the moneytaker straight to the bathroom without being asked to pay and frankly, I didn’t ask to pay either. Another time I pleaded ignorance even though I was not ignorant, not ignorant enough to actually plead it anyway. Weak septic systems are cause for concern and toilet paper is inevitably waste basketed rather than flushed. One business owner on Caulker who had an immaculate restroom insisted that I not review her establishment for fear that people would start going their more frequently! It seems that things are done a little differently here. Thats okay. I’m adjusting to the rules. So is my bladder.

– Justin Teerlinck

The menu even categorizes Mexican food as "south of the border". I almost missed the irony in that one until I realized "oh yeah, this is Belize."

The restrooms are spotless, good-smelling thatched huts acessible by wooden deck. They contain plumbing, paper and lots of room to rest in. Cleanest in Belize, as far as I can tell. Love it.

– Justin Teerlinck

Jungle is certainly a feature of the outhouses, where I saw my first scorpian (who like pine) and nearly sat on a giant cockroach, making for not quite pleasant but not awful experiences.

So why the ten? Simply put, innovation. Monkey Bay uses a complex system of filtration and composting to collect and utilize the methane gas from the pit toilets, and they use it for cooking. I personally tried a meal in their summer camp-like dining hall cooked with poopgas (aka "bio" gas, heh, heh) by college kids. Its a great idea – although I would put that energy toward air conditioning rather than cooking. All joking aside, it seems like a very creative conservation idea but much more realistic than the infamous "big gulp" where all food scraps are mixed with water and devoured rather than chucked or buried.

Long ago we read that the monkeys left Monkey Bay because they had enough money to start up their only place.

– Justin Teerlinck

Chateau Carribean looks out over the sea and sits near the Baron Bliss memorial, the patron of Belize famed for his love of ecstatic joy. Ectastic joy was not found wanting at the Chateau, but it came a little more slowly in the form of wide eyed stares of the staff, who seemed to stand off of the side observing us the entire time we were there, but always polite, quiet, lithe. It felt like we were the only people in an old house filled with incorporeal beings.

The restroom had a double hinged, accordian style door but I opted not to play it, because it squeaked. El urinario had its own special place that was private and special and sealed in like tomb. Actually, all of Belize City felt like a tomb filled with extras from Night of the Living Dead.

– Justin Teerlinck