Pavement is an awesome band. And an awesome place for drunks to rest their faces.

San Pedro La Laguna Travel Blog

 › entry 27 of 36 › view all entries
I've officially held down a girlfriend for longer than ever before. That wasn't supposed to make me sound like a rapist. I even brought her home to meet mom -- my Guatemalan host mom, that is -- who was quick to allude to marriage (and a promised lifetime of tortillas is, to be honest, enticing). Sorry Real Mom and Dad; someday you, too, will have an opportunity to create the same awkwardness.

After reprising World War Whatever at every opportunity for the last week, San Pedro seems to be returning to normal. Who knows, maybe the town just ran out of fireworks; either way, the barking of feral packs has returned as my nightly sleep soundtrack. Families are filtering back to the city, packing buses every hour. Meat will soon again be a mealtime rarity, the festive chilera replaced by simpler green chili and cilantro concoctions. Dessert disappeared with the final crumbs of panes de zanahoria y banano and pay de piña. Midnight tamale feasts have been relegated to late-night craving-stoking memory.

Without my friends Adam and Ricardo, who departed just short of el Año Nuevo, I passed the year's end marathon of reveling admiring drunks zombie-shuffling through the streets or, in my favorite position, facedown on concrete, fresh piss straining their pants and darkening the dusty cobblestones crotch-level, discoloration streaming down-gradient.
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