a locust in the showerSan Padro from the boat
view in san pedro

27 de Julio

Well it’s been quite a day. Such a day in fact that I am writing this two days in the future. We ended class early today in order to catch the last boar to San Pedro, the village at the base of the volcano. After finding a cheap hotel for the night, we decided to grab something to eat. Our house-mate, Paul, who invited us on this trip initially, is a social character. He will strike up a conversation with any and every gringo that speaks English. It so happened that a couple gringos were sitting in the vicinity of our table and not long after, they pulled up chairs and began discussing all matters and topics. Around 8:00 I was getting a little anxious to hit the hay as we were planning to begin hiking the volcano at 6:00 in the morning. Just around that time one of the gentlemen who was from Tampa tried in broken Spanish to ask a local if she knew where he could buy playing cards. She thankfully did not seem to understand and went on her way. In another 10 minutes the lady returned with a deck of brand new cards and before I knew it, I was pushed into my first real game of Texas Hold’em Poker. I was really not down with the idea of throwing away 50 quitzales in a game that I didn’t even know how to play. Needless to say, I fell under peer pressure and sat quietly with a couple of cards in hand. As the game progressed, our housemate and the man from Tampa steadily became drunk. The other gentleman was a young 24 year old guy from England with a very formal, courteous, and honest demeanor. Oh, and also an awesome accent. The entire time I felt like apologizing for the somewhat crude and embarrassing behavior of my fellow American citizens. This small little game of “fun” was turning into something much longer and not my definition of a good time. One hour passed, then two. Three hours passed and then four. Five hours passed and the six. At around 3:00 am a third player was finally eliminated and only the Englishman and I were left. In attempt to try and end the madness, I suggested we split the pot and leave it at that. The English man generously agreed and we split the pot of 250 quitzales. This ended the sketchiest night of my entire trip, gambling with drunken men till 3:00am in the morning. The word of the day is “Peor.” In Spanish it means “worse.”