PARTY TIME.

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Panajachel, 10 abril 1990.
It's just a few minutes after 01.00 h. in the morning and we've found ourselves a local bar allright.
We found this place after manuevering ourselves through a maze of little small alleys behind the market. I remember how we saw drunk locals lying at the side of the alley - not an uncommon sight in this heck of the woods - , borrachos vomiting their guts out and a high heeled woman in net stockings and a mini skirt - I had no doubt about her profession - hiting a indio male over the head with her handbag - I admit that was a clasic one - while screaming bloddy murder at him. The poor sod was too far gone to even bother to bring up his arm in defence.
This place is huge but badly lit and the wooden floor is covered with saw dust, broken bottles, dirty hand kerchiefs, sigarette buds and assorted material. Tables are placed all over this dump covered with big one litro El Gallo bottles, full ashtrays and loud mouthed local males around them who knock the booze down their throats like there is gonna be no tomorrow.
young women move between the tables, some of them dressed in the tradional indio garb with the colorful embroidery on it, renewing the drinks for these thirsty male throats.
There are rooms in the back so I know for sure what sort of place we're in, not that makes much of a difference in this part of the world where all the bars seem to double as bordellos anyway.
Not that Nora or Mary Carmen seem to care. I know from experience that the only thing Nora cares about is the next joint - she'll have to wait for that untill we get back to their hotel though - and as for Mary Carmen...she's been way to busy all night to try to lock eyes with me...and anyway, I doubt very much she has ever been fully aware of what goes on around her, too much occupied with her own mind.
James is too happy to see me again to notice the suptle hinds while Peter is lying face down on the floor snoring so loud that he even drones out the mexican love song that come out of an ancient jukebox.
There are ocassional fights breaking out at the tables around us with the bar girls quickly zooming in to remove bottles and glasses which they bring back once differences are settled.
These girls also take the customers to those back rooms and I find it difficut to imagine that these guys can actually f*** with all this mêlee going on.
At one point I see an enormously fat woman jumping off a table right on top of two fighting drunks.
Nora has fallen asleep with her head on my shoulder no doubt dreaming about her next time high, her next spliff.
"Yeah, we're having the trip of our lives, Hans" I can hear James say. He's still remarkably sober despite all the beer we've consumed, I presume he's anticipating his night with his new mexican lady-friend Mary Carmen.
Leaving this crazy bar at 03.30 h. me dragging a semi-awake and very intoxicated Nora along who is busy trying to explain me all the sexy things she wants to do with me once back in the hotel while James and Mary Carmen quite literally carry her boyfriend who is by now totally comatose.
OH, YEAH MON, WE GOT OUR LITTLE PARTY ALL RIGHT!!!!!

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