After a few minutes of yelling at each other over the loud noise from the street, Ms. Robinson shoos a sales girl away to make room for me to sit next to her. This doesn’t detour the sales girl who starts showing me her stash while I sip coffee at a café in the middle of Panajachel (Q7/$0.90 for a small amazing cup of joe and Q15/$2.00 for the hand-woven scarf for my mom/aunt/grandma that Ms. Robinson approves as a bargain.)
Ms. Robinson is an 86-year-young woman from New England who knows everything about everybody. We get into discussions about what I’ve observed and what she knows (or presumes). She points to people and labels them “retired and married to a local,” “sells drugs,” and “begs people for money but lives in a house nicer than the one she’s renting.”
We talk about everything from local politics to her life after the military. She is a firecracker who speaks fast and covers everything (and everybody) relating to Guatemala.
Every goodbye results in a new conversation about the “narco” buildings in Guatemala City to the photos of drug dealers in the newspaper. I have to run to meet my crowded shuttle.
Three hours later, we arrive in Central Park in La Antigua and I walk around to find a room for rent (Hostel Antigua, private room with bath discounted price Q128/$16 – Although not the cheapest room it’s extremely quiet and well-kept.)
I return to the Black Cat as promised and am immediately confronted by my entry Fun Friends. Most are rave reviews but a certain someone cannot get over being called “young at heart.” 😉
I grab dinner to go from Las Palmas (hamburger and fries Q58/$7.25 to go with my liter of Cabro Q28/$3.50). It’s mediocre at best and I swear it came with the “free” termite that is struggling to free itself from the caramelized onions.
The night drags on at first but then the music gets louder and so do we. There’s a new group of people and we all take time to get to know each other and make suggestions about places to visit.
My lovely friend Belgium challenges me to try a “crack whore”. It involves two glasses, a shot of Sambuca, a lighter, a straw and a prayer.
A couple of people are in a corner playing a Pictionary type game where they come up with a scenario and then judge who depicts it the best. I take a seat after finishing my first liter and my life story becomes the lightning round.
As much as we’ve had to drink, I’m completely impressed with all of them but I choose the winner for his organization and accurate retelling of the highlights of my life up to my next adventure… San Francisco. It’s the city that started my love for travel and my strength to do it alone.
Later… drunker… Rhode Island shows me to her favorite bar where the drinks are poured strong. The guys here are ready to mingle and it takes no time until they are buying us drinks and asking us to salsa.
I would share more if I could but there’s so little I remember.
Rhode Island drops me off at my hotel and I pass out with only three hours to sleep.
Check for photos tomorrow!
HeyKela 