Our Man in Belize: A Memoir

When Conroy was a young U.S. foreign service officer 35 years ago, a tour of duty in what was then British Honduras was regarded as an assignment from hell. The weather was so humid that envelopes were ordered without glue to avoid having to steam them open before use, and new tires for the official jeep had to be labeled ""dog food"" to prevent unauthorized personnel from taking them. Moreover, the island was a crumbling outpost of the British Empire, governed in comic-operetta style. The major activity of the U.S. Consulate seemed to be issuing visas and stamping passports, the consul himself preferring to spend his time ""talking with...people he found amusing."" His major concern was the dream boat he was building, and when a hurricane struck, neither he nor his boat was to be found. Conroy's initial SOS to the State Department violated protocol--only communiques from the consul, not his minions, were permitted. But eventually the navy came to the rescue. Now recalled in tranquillity, this book is high comedy performed in fittingly elegant high style. (Nov.)