Charlie.

Okay, so I keep on putting off writing about Holy Week, and I promise I will write of it, but for now I have a story that will more than substitute I think***. And, it will substitute sufficiently because it goes to show that you will inevitably meet....em...interesting...people while abroad. So, I´m going to take you way back to about two weeks ago when I was at a bar/cafe with some friends having a beer and gawking at this incredibly drunk man, who was falling off his chair left and right because he was so drunk. Midst his shouts of wooooooohooo and immer reeeel americun, and a bit too much swinging of the beer glass, I made my way forward to talk with my friend Julie, the bartender, who explained that Charlie was an U.S. expat (of about 35 years) who had a farm in San Pedro and was apparently taking a vacation in Xela for a little while. He had showed up drunk the previous day during the afternoon, plopped himself down at the bar, and emptied his sleeves of 4 giant ziplock bags of marijuana, proudly proclaiming ´´YALL WANT SOME WEED?´´. And, more or less, he hadn´t left since. Well, as my, I would like to think, defense tactics tell me to stay away from drunk and crazy men, I kept my distance. But, my male friends, had a jolly old time conversing...if you could call it that...with him.

Anyways, apparently he´s still around a lot, but I hadn´t seen him since that week, until I was walking down the street with my friend Matt in search of these tasty Taiwanese empanadas that I found. Matt is quite the awesome character in general, but an additional spectacle is his giant beard/moustache/ medium longish hair spectacle, combined with scholar´s spectacles (ie what you would imagine someone literary philosopher from eastern Europe wearing during the early 20th century) and an army green militaryish jacket. In short, I don´t think I´ve gone more than three days at a time with Matt without hearing a joke being thrown around about him looking like Fidel Castro (although I don´t actually see the resemblence.....just..... dark hair and....beard). So, I´m walking past this little hole in the wall bar yesterday craving empanadas, and we hear a battlecry following us as we pass ´´FIDEL, get yer ass in here and have a beer with me´´, and we see Charlie come lurching out of the door. Matt explains that we´re on our way for empanadas but we´ll return. So we go for empanadas, and the restaurant is closed (Holy Week schedules are not predictable by any means), so Matt urges that we should return to the little cantina, and assures me that he can chug that beer quickly so we can leave and get food somewhere else.

So, we turn around and go back, and as I enter, you know, the first glorious thing that comes singing out of Charlie´s mouth is ´´Hey Fidel, how´d ya get such a nice lookin girl to come round with ya. She Danish? I hope she´s Danish.´´ Great, point one against. So, I pipe up explaining no, I´m from Rhode Island. Well, Charlie explains, he hates America, and do we want a beer or a soda pop? So Matt and I sit down to have a beer (after an apologetic set of glances for Charlie in general with the woman working the store), and we commence to receive...the FULL Charlie experience. I can´t give the best chronological arrangement of our conversation, but I will highlight the following points....that...well...are interesting to say the least. Quotes denote specifics not of yours truly, but Charlie.

1. I drove down (´stoned off my ass´) from California in a VW bus in 1971 with a friend of mine. I ain´t goin back.

2. Ya know I´m the only ´´whitie´´ that owns property in San Pedro (one of the many towns around Lago Atitlan, one of the most scenic and well known places to visit in Guatemala....filled with drugged out hippy expats often....),. and damned if any of ém locals will sell property to more whities.

3. It´s hard growing drugs, but it´s good money, ya know. When yall travel (Matt, I, whoever else), if ya want to buy a pound of marijuana for 800Q (roughly $107) , you should go to this shed in the afternoon and tell ém that Charlie sent you.
4. Have youmet Space Dave? He looks just like ya, Matt, cept his beard´s white. You can always tell when Space Dave is around because he makes the damn best pot cookies around. And, because the street dogs always get to the scraps of every meal, you can find where he is buy the number of drugged up dogs on the sidewalk.

4b. Also, Space Dave sells the best crack. Do we want some crack? (Matt´s reply, No thanks, we´re not into crack). Well, me neither, but every once in a while I just need to BLOW MY MIND, ya KNOW? and FOR-GIIIIIT that I´m an American. Yall better work on getting George Bush out now, ya here?

5. One time, two FBI agents and a woman came to my farm (background info: about 2 or 3 years back there were many drug raids in San Pedro and surrounding areas during a crack down on the drug trade) to try and bust me up. And I told ´em, if you come here on my property, Imma shoot yer leg off and burn ya and then throw ya in the lake. We ain´t in American anymore, I can do that. And the next day, they left, damn they did. Ya know, I´m all for peace, but ya gotta use violence sometimes you know.

6. I live behind Pollo Campero (the popular Guatemalan fast food chain that also delivers food on motor bikes) and damn do I hate those guys on their bikes. So I have this big window, right, and it´s so damn loud VEERRROOW VRRRROOM and sometimes when they can´t see me I´ll poke my head out and shoot ém with my bee bee gun (please don´t make fun of my spelling of that...). Suckers.

And that is Charlie. And that is my story for the day.


***So, my footnotes are the following 1, Alcoholism and addiction are diseases and I recognize that. But, at times I feel it is necessary to take stock of how ridiculous a situation can be and to relate it just to get it off one´s chest. 2, My story should not be taken as any sort of indication of danger in Guatemala.....I don´t feel any more in danger here than in Providence. 3, Lastly, hopefully this doesn´t offend anyone, but let me know if it does.