Queen Elizabeth’s Visit

We will now discuss the visit of (as Radio Belize says) “Her Majesty, Queen Elizabeth, by the Grace of God, Queen of Belize…” (and, we trust, of other slightly grander realms).

The Royal Visit was announced in June, to the overwhelming delight of the people. While the general thought is that this new government immediately invited Her Majesty—which the former, anti-colonial government had not done during its 25 years in power—it also is said that the Queen had set herself a personal task of visiting each country in the Commonwealth, and that Belize was last on the list. Whatever the reason, the result has been universal excitement and joy.

The weather cooperated. Periodic heavy squalls before the Queen’s arrival had everyone worried, but the days of the Royal Visit were sunny with brief showers descending at times and in places where they disrupted nothing.

 

Normally, arrangements for a Royal Visit would be coordinated by the government in consultation with the British High Commissioner (the British equivalent of ambassador to a Commonwealth country) and, in this case, with the British Garrison commander. However, our Governor-General, Dame Minita Gordon, said thank-you-no-thank-you to all offers of help and kept a rigid grip on all details.

Governor-General is an appointive position. When Belize attained independence the then Prime Minister, leader of the People’s United Party (PUP), selected her and submitted her name to the Queen. Her Majesty gave routine approval and announced the appointment.

Dr. Minita Gordon has a PhD in education, has taught and been in administration, and is a PUP stalwart. Until the Queen’s visit she appeared to be earning the honor of the title Dame, bestowed upon her not long after her appointment to the Governor-Generalship. Dame Minita is a large woman, probably in her 50s. She wears becoming dowager-type dresses and hats, usually in bright pastels. She speaks slowly and well, moves with dignity, and graces her position.

Usually.

Now, however, the formal coolness of the new United Democratic Party (UDP) government to an antagonistic holdover from the old PUP government has broken into open warfare.

 

But back to the build-up to the Visit. The Royal Crates duly arrived, well ahead. Wherever the Queen goes, the boxes precede her. They contain crowns to be placed on Royal Vehicles, china, silver, crystal, linens, and, most important of all, the red carpet.

On the subject of Special Facilities for Her Majesty, the army has built a tiled lavatory adjacent to the Sergeants’ Mess at Airport Camp for her personal use, since the Queen would have a drink there before adjourning to the Officers’ Mess for a final luncheon. Reportedly, army wives are delighted since the new facility will revert to them after the Royal Visit.

Even more interesting is the fact, which apparently is common knowledge—but not heretofore to me—that whither goeth the Queen, there goeth her private toilet seat. Apparently the Royal Household lives in fear that someone somewhere somehow might gain possession of a seat which had been graced by the Royal Bottom and auction it off, or perhaps frame and mount it on his wall.

 

Queen Elizabeth stayed at Government House while in Belize City, but as recently as ten days before her arrival, the government had no idea where she would be housed because the Governor-General had not seen fit to mention her plans to them.

Government House, traditional residence of British Governors before independence, has not been occupied for some years and the upstairs then was decorated in Early Barn. I understand that the antediluvian plumbing was replaced for Her Majesty by a modern tiled bathroom, and can only hope that the Royal Bed Chamber was redecorated with more color-taste than has been shown by recent government repainting around town.

One of the Ladies-in-Waiting was booked into the Bellevue Hotel, not far from Government House. The hotel manager/owner, Roger Dinger, completely refurbished the room for her and was pleased with results—until a security officer demanded a fire escape. Apparently none of the Queen’s Household may stay in a room with only one exit. Roger had to cut a door from his newly painted room through to his bar, the only possible egress. (I have had a lovely mental picture of Lady Whatever fleeing in her shift in the middle of the night through a busy Belizean bar.)

 

The big excitement, of course, was who would be invited to what event. Invitations were slow in arriving. Some were received only the day before the Queen’s arrival. The Old Guard, who took it for granted that they would be invited to everything, had to content themselves with invitations to be at the airport when her Majesty arrived—if that.

Of late, formal invitations have included an embarrassing amount of instruction about correct dress since the people invited don’t necessarily know what is expected. Invitations to the Prime Minister’s luncheon in Belmopan included instructions to the ladies that hat and gloves were required. Invitations to the State Reception specified evening gowns and gloves.

Belize City shops are not long on hats and gloves these days. What they carried sold overnight. The neighboring shopping mecca of Chetumal, Mexico, was stripped of gloves and hats within days. One of our more enterprising merchants, José Shoman of Odette’s Fashion Center, advertised on the Sunday before the Queen’s arrival that they had received a new shipment of evening gowns, hats, and gloves. Translated, that probably meant that José had taken the first plane up to Miami, bought out the closest shop, bundled all into his arms, and dashed back to Belize to Fill a Need.

In the matter of dress, the Governor-General (or GG, as she is locally abbreviated) decreed long dresses for the women who would be presented to Her Majesty during airport ceremonies on her arrival. She was gently persuaded that these would be inappropriate and gave in to the point of specifying cocktail dresses. I am sure everyone dressed correctly, but I had a fascinating mental image of the Belize airport apron ablaze with satin and sequins sparkling in the setting sun.

 

There was a huge boggle about vehicles for the Visit. The Garrison commander tried for weeks to get GG’s requirements, but it was not until a few days before Her Majesty’s arrival that she finally let him know what vehicles and drivers she would need. By that time, it was too late to get what they wanted. Public information was that a closed vehicle with tinted glass would have to be used for the Queen.

 

Decorations exploded throughout Belize City. Red-white-and-blue banners, caught up in the middle with a medallion, and streamers stretched across all the streets on the Royal Route. A sort of Gate to the City was erected across Queen Street between the Post Office and the Vogue—tricolor columns holding a graceful arch with “Welcome Queen Elizabeth” and the names of all the major towns and pictorial symbols of the country. British and Belizean flags and bunting in a variety of colorful shapes hung everywhere.

 

Queen Elizabeth flew into Belize, on time to the second, at 4:30 pm, Wednesday, October 9th, 1985. Ceremonies at the airport included a 21-gun salute, both national anthems, presentations, and reviewing an honor guard of the Belize Defense Force (BDF). As the Queen was about to get into her vehicle to be driven into town, she realized that the guests seated row after row for the ceremonies could not see her clearly, so she made a point of walking clear of the car, standing where they could see her, and waving acknowledgement of their welcome.

The Queen, with Dame Minita beside her, drove to the gates of the city at Pallotti Convent for another ceremony. Thousands had gathered there to greet her. Alex was there since he had spent the afternoon filling balloons with helium and he stayed to watch. Unfortunately, one of the men working with him misunderstood a signal and let the balloons loose before the Queen’s arrival. However, the many hundreds of soaring spots of color were a huge success with the crowd.

Alex was horrified at the apparent laxness of security. They saw two vehicles, one a closed van, which could have contained anything, and no police, BDF, or plainclothesman went near them. It occurred to me that the defenders all probably recognized people in the vehicles and realized that they were no more threat to the Queen than the school children. However, Alex was deeply unhappy that security was not tighter.

A small dais with a throne had been erected on one of the traffic islands in the middle of the wide intersection. According to the rehearsal the day before, the Queen was to ascend and be seated and then the mayor, Frank Lizama (the sculptor), was to climb the steps, give his speech of welcome, and present Her Majesty with the Key to the City (which he had carved of ziricote).

The Queen duly climbed the few steps—and Dame Minita trudged up right behind her. When GG went, the Prime Minster had to follow. There was barely room for His Worship the Mayor to mount the steps and give his speech as the four balanced uneasily on the tiny dais intended for two.

 

One of the features of the ceremonies at the entrance to the city was the playing of a welcoming composition written by Dr. Coleville Young. Allegedly it had been written in four-part harmony for the Belize Chorale Society to sing. However, GG decreed that instead it would be sung by 500 school children. Reportedly Dr. Young was wild and the Chorale Society, hurt.

I happened to go to the library a couple of days before the Queen’s arrival and found myself wading through a tide of uniformed small fry. They were there to rehearse, so I stood to the side and listened. The music seemed uninspired, the words awkward, but the young voices were sweet and enthusiastic so I decided privately that perhaps the right decision had been made.

The afternoon of the Queen’s arrival, however, the music, played by a steel band and not the rehearsal piano, proved a catchy calypso-type tune, perfect for the occasion. The children’s voices were lovely and true and it made a perfect musical reception for Her Majesty.

 

I went to Callie and Ford Young’s home on Princess Margaret Drive to watch the Queen pass. We listened to the airport and city-entrance ceremonies on the radio, then went outdoors and across the street (since we understood that the Queen would be seated on the right). By that time the street had been closed off.

A police constable and BDF soldier were stationed in pairs at each intersection. Banners were waving in the wind. St. Catherine’s school girls were lined up two deep on both sides of the street as far as one could see around the curve to the East.

Police vehicles…lights…motorcycle escort…a large, closed Rover…and then, to everyone’s delight, a tiny open car. I saw Dame Minita and my mind registered that if GG were there I’d better quickly see who was sitting next to her.

As the car came alongside us, almost within arm’s reach, a familiar face smiled directly at me. It was one of those Technicolor snapshots that will remain in memory forever, as if a frame from a film had materialized within speaking distance. My first thought, then and now, and the one echoed by almost everyone, was, “She’s so pretty!”

The Queen looked a good fifteen years younger than we know her to be. Her skin was the clear pastel English complexion of tradition. She was wearing a tailored silk dress of her favorite cornflower blue and a white straw sailor hat with wide matching blue ribbon.

The entire route to Government House was thronged with people: school children in uniform ranked at attention in specified locations, and eager citizens of all ages and sizes everywhere else where it was possible to catch a glimpse of their Queen.

At Government House, where a crowd of hundreds waited, the Queen ended her arrival ceremonies having the Government House staff presented to her. Later there was a private dinner for the Queen and her Household with, I believe, the omnipresent GG.

 

The next morning, the cavalcade moved off at 10:00 am. We were waiting outside our office to see the Queen pass. She was wearing a royal-blue printed silk dress with one of those unfortunate toque-style hats of matching blue and emerald green. Not nearly as becoming as the hat the day before. Later Lady Wolffsohn, who had seen her from her veranda, asked me, “What did the Queen have on her head? It looked like a crash helmet.”

The Queen was flown first to Dangriga (Stann Creek) for ceremonies then back to the capital, Belmopan.

The Prime Minister Manuel Esquivel and Mrs. Esquivel were hosts at a luncheon for Her Majesty. My housekeeper, Jean Olivera, was on the serving staff. She had been absolutely distraught over the uniforms made for the occasion—bright aqua semi-fitted shifts with collar and cuffs of a multi-colored denim with wide stripes of pink and lime and aqua and gold and green. I agreed that it was the worst thing I ever had seen, until Callie Young suggested that it might be intended as a cross between a uniform and a costume, something bright and tropical to suggest a native dress (which we don’t have). The theory suited me but Jean did not buy the pacifying explanation.

Jean said that before the luncheon, one of the staff started past her with a gin and tonic for Her Majesty in her hand. Jean grabbed the girl and told her to use the silver tray set out for that purpose. The girl asked Jean to serve the Queen herself, that she was too scared, but Jean just laughed and sent her on.

Guests at the luncheon were members of the legislature, senate, and diplomats resident in Belmopan, and their wives. The menu (Jean brought me a copy, attractively printed in gold on white) was:

Shrimp Remoulade
Belizean Roast Beef with Dressing
Stuffed Tomato Waterlilies
Potato Salad on Lettuce Bed
Tropical Fruit Cocktail
Belizean Candy Tray (tableta, fudge, and a bite-sized cake)
Tea or Coffee

 

After lunch, the Queen went to the National Assembly. The formal procedure normally is for the Queen to knock ceremonially for admittance, for the Speaker of the House to open the door, welcome her, and escort her to the podium to address the joint sitting of house and senate.

Not a bit of it. The Governor-General simply blasted her way to the front, threw open the door, and led Her Majesty in. I was told that she did not even introduce the Speaker and did not give him a chance to speak to the Queen.

 

Again that evening I went out to Callie’s so that we could watch the Queen return to the city. She looked surprisingly fresh considering the long day she had had.

That was the big evening—State Dinner and State Reception.

State Dinner guests numbered 60, but only two members of the Cabinet were included…none of the handful of Belizeans knighted by Her Majesty…not leading businessmen…not the American Chargé d’Affaires (which did not worry me but upset some of my friends). However, the manager of a defunct airline was included.

To GG’s credit, she had invited representatives of the Chinese, East Indian, and Garifuna communities (so designated in the official booklet detailing invitees and presentees). That is something no previous government ever considered.

The former Prime Minister, George Price, was among the guests seated at the Queen’s table. In past years Mr. Price was very anti-Royal family, anti-British, and once was indicted for sedition for some scurrilous remarks about Queen Elizabeth herself (acquitted thanks to brilliant defense by Sir Harrison Courtenay). Mr. Price made a point of never inviting the Queen to Belize. It has been reported by someone who was there that when the Queen first met Mr. Price on this visit her blue eyes were chilly as she said firmly, “I am here.”

Another report on the dinner, picked up by the BBC, also involves Price. The dinner was an all-Belizean menu including gibnut, sweet potato pone, etc. Price was seated next to a gentleman of the Queen’s household who asked what the meat was. Price, who allegedly had been almost hectically talkative, explained that it was “a jungle rat.” That was the end of the meal as far as the visiting gentleman was concerned.

As the dinner was finishing, guests for the reception were assembling on the lawn between Government House and the sea. Invitations were 9:30 for 9:50, and Callie said that when they arrived exactly on time, the line stretched all the way around the curve to the front of the Cathedral. Invitations were checked against the master list and entrance was a slow process.

 

The guest list for the State Reception was eclectic. Many of the Old Guard, most prominent citizens, widows of leaders of the community were not invited. The list was heavily loaded with members of the rejected PUP and with Dame Minita’s old school friends.

There was grumbling at Dame Minita’s having selected as her own Lady-in-Waiting a sister who left Belize so long ago that no one even remembers her. And, of course, the Lady-in-Waiting accompanied GG to all ceremonies and functions.

The number of invitations alloted to members of the government followed no recognizable pattern: some got 15, some 25, the Prime Minister reportedly 45. The Ministers did the gracious thing and recognized the people who had worked hard for them so that a Coca Cola truck driver, my laundress, and a shipping clerk had a chance to see Queen Elizabeth. To my mind, this made up for all the exclusions—some of them obviously malicious—of people who had had their share of prime invitations in the past. With 1,000 attending the State Reception, it is inevitable that people would be left off the list and feelings would be hurt.

In the matter of presentations throughout the various events, the people introduced to Her Majesty on each occasion were the right ones, selected for their positions not for who they were personally. While some of us felt it would have been an obvious courtesy to the Queen to present those few individuals whom she had honored with knighthoods, this was not done.

 

Before going out from Government House to greet the reception guests, the Queen paused to permit her official portrait to be taken. Dame Minita moved up closely alongside her to be included. It took firm words to convince her that the portrait must be of the Queen alone.

Her Majesty—to the disappointment of most, but not to the surprise of those who had seen films of her State Visit to Cayman—dressed down for the evening. She wore a pale blue gown with lace top, dropped waistline, and chiffon skirt. It had short sleeves, open neckline to display a diamond-and-ruby necklace, and may have had touches of silver embroidery. She wore a dainty diamond tiara. Several people noted that she looked tired and did not smile as much as they would have expected.

 

Next morning the Royal Party was off at 9:30, with the Queen looking well rested, en route to Orange Walk. Clever backstage managers had dressed Her Majesty in soft orange, a printed silk dress with matching straw hat with a narrow brim, the band trimmed with small flowers.

From Orange Walk the queen returned to the airport in Belize City. It had been her stated wish that the formal ceremonies of her trip be completed there. She then would go to the British army camp adjacent to the airport with just her Royal Household, for an informal luncheon and chance to visit her troops in the country.

When the Colonel explained this to the Governor General, Dame Minita said, “No way.” She announced that she expected to be invited. He was forced to ask her, her Lady-in-Waiting, and thus by protocol the Prime Minister and Mrs. Esquivel, completely changing the character of the luncheon. We understand that the Queen was not amused.

When the Queen reached the Army Camp, she chose to retire momentarily to refresh herself. Dame Minita surged forward in her rear with every intention of accompanying Her Majesty to the Loo. One of the officers had been delegated…not necessarily to his delight…to deter GG in the event that this unheard-of situation arose. It was not simple, barring force of arms, to convince the Governor-General that the Queen not only requested and required moments of privacy through the day but that only over his (ingloriously) dead body might GG proceed.

Army wives reported that the Queen simply could not move to speak to people without Dame Minita’s being right alongside her.

The Queen had sent instructions that she preferred not to have wine with lunch. However, she was so unnerved by the time she was seated at the army luncheon table that she requested a glass of wine…to the accompaniment of elevated eyebrows from her Household and hosts…and downed it as if she might not have survived without it.

 

The Queen left by air in the early afternoon Friday, October 11th, for the Bahamas, where she was to meet Prince Phillip in the Royal Yacht Britannia.

Her visit was a dream-come-true to Belizeans, most of whom, regardless of local politics, are proud of their ties to the British Royal family. It was a grueling three days for Her Majesty, but she made each person she passed feel that she had made the trip specifically to see him.