Eva

I spent a good hour talking with one of the Cafe No Se bartenders last night after discovering that she and I had gone to the same high school in Tucson, AZ. I thought she had looked familiar.

At the moment, she´s stuck here. Apparently the Guaetmalan government frowns upon unregistered vehicles, and the U.S. government frowns upon bribing members of the Guatemalan government to get said vehicles registered. Her visa/passport is long expired, and if she tries to leave the country without paying the considerable fines she´s managed to levy against herself, she´ll probably be thrown in jail.

(My life is very, very boring.)

Inasmuch as I probably wouldn´t want to be in the same situation, I do envy her. She´s got a place to stay, a job that involves listening to live music every night, and a fluency that I probably won´t surpass for a good long while. The only advantage I have is the ability to leave when I want, which, given my current feelings for the area, isn´t an advantage I´d rather use.

Bjorn may be playing jazz piano at a Woodstockian music festival tomorrow. More to come.