That´s My Department

Guatemala City - The governor of the Guatemalan department of Solola was shot dead, police in Guatemala City said Saturday.

Julio Adalberto Urrua Ruiz was shot by gunmen in his car Friday evening while he was stopped at traffic lights. His bodyguard was also killed.

Urrua, a member of the governing party, was on his way to a meeting with President Oscar Berger.

It was unknown who carried out the killings.

New Students, New Story, Same Old Bull

Last weekend, another student arrived in my dorm. She was in her 60s and an Ausie. We saw each other exactly twice during the week, as the hours we kept were pretty much opposite one another. One night she heard me coming in as she was getting up (around 3am). A few more students arrived Friday, a married couple (American woman, Scottish guy) and someone else from Vancouver whom I still haven´t seen.

Lest anyone think that I exaggerate about the drug culture here, one of the bars got raided by police from Guatemala City last weekend during a full moon party. From what I gather, 20 arrests of customers were made, and the owner of the bar was also taken into custody. Such a hit to the local economy was it that one of the places that I frequent was left empty the following night. I thought the whole thing was pretty funny, as a bunch of people got what they deserved. My commi teacher was pretty happy to be rid of them too.

Midweek, I had another encounter of the third kind with a Dutchman who owns a restaurant down here. He told me to "open my eyes" to how rotten the world is, and the fact that, because the Mayan calender ends then, "something's going to happen, I don't know what" in 2012. I found it rather amusing to get a lecture about "opening my eyes" to someone who moved to a town in the middle of nowhere and had just finished talking to someone else about his latest mushroom trip. He wants me to come back on Dec. 22, 2012 so that he can gloat about whatever happens and how he predicted it, but I didn't believe him. I offered to place a wager on it. I'd come back for that date. If he was right, I'd pay for my trip. If he was right, he would do so. So confident was he that he offered to buy me a beer if nothing happened instead.

My New, Commi Teacher

There wasn't much to see in the other town I visited, so I returned early last week and studied nonstop. (If you'll believe that, I have a bridge I'd like to sell you.) Actually I spent the week playing poker with Scots who were passing through in two relatively normal bars in San Pedro, roughly breaking even. They were passing through. Now, like many before them, they're considering setting up camp for a while.

On Monday, I found that they had realized what I knew before I came, i.e. that I'd be the school's "special project". Essentially the guy who organizes the classes told me that I'm not learning anything, so he's giving me a teacher with less patience. Within the first fifteen minutes, she had already told me that she was not fond of the American President (fair enough) and went on to extol the virtues of Castro's government in Cuba. The next few weeks should be interesting.

Two weekends ago, Guatemala began its version of daylight savings time. The problem is that half the town doesn't change, and it's anybody's guess as to which businesses and people make the change. For example, I showed up at what was officially 2pm for my class on Monday. My commi teacher was among those who had not changed over, and showed up an hour later. Sadly, though, the cops enforse the new time on all of the foreign owned bars, meaning that there's nothing to do after 1am any night of the week.

My Old Kentucky Home

The sun shines bright in the old Kentucky home,
Tis summer, the darkies are gay;
The corn-top's ripe and the meadow's in the bloom
While the birds make music all the day.
The young folks roll on the little cabin floorAll merry, all happy and bright;
By'n by hard times comes a knocking at the door
Then my old Kentucky home, Good-night!

Weep no more my lady.
Oh! Weep no more today!
We will sing one song for my old Kentucky home
For the old Kentucky home, far away.