Did I tell you about the drunk guy?

You know those drunk guys on the street, that come up to you, say something incoherent or bizzare and then stumble onto the next group of people, and say something incoherent to them? Well, imagine having one of those sitting next to you on a four hour van ride, with only you and three other people in the van.

The easiest, and not too expensive, way to travel from San Cristobal, Mexico to Xela is by shuttle. Shuttles are vans, organized by tour companies, that take you all over the country. Getting over the Mexican border is far more complicated if you don't take a direct van, because you end up waiting a lot, taking at least 4 if not more buses, and end up paying the same amount. For all of these reasons, I took a shuttle to and from Mexico last week.

My trip to Mexico was pleasant, my trip home had an interesting character who went from making me slightly uncomfortable when he first got on the van, to extremely uncomfortable by the time he got off.

Raffa is a 40 something year old Mexican Artisan with dreds. As he boarded the van and took the seat next to mine, I got a huge wafe of pot and beer - a lovely combination at 8am. He was very chatty, telling us that he was an artisan, a citizen of the world, had lived everywhere, etc... He asked us all where we were from (Isreal, Mexico, France and the US) and then started spitting out whatever words he knew in each language. The French guy and Mexican were traveling to San Pedro on Lake Atitlan. San Pedro is a popular location for pot loving folk, and is know for its 'chill' atmosphere. Raffa, was also traveling to San Pedro (lucky them), and instantly got to talking about everything he grows and sells. During this first 30min or so, I was thinking that it was going to be an interesting ride and I wished this guy didn't talk so much.

When we hit the first town outside of San Cristobal, Raffa asked the driver if he could stop for some juice. He got some juice, a bottle of water, and a six pack of beer. I didn't ever see him drink the juice or water. While he was in the store, the Mexican tells me to watch my bag and be careful. Awesome. After his first beer, Raffa starts to roll a joint in the van. His coordination wasn't that great, so this took him a while as the pot kept spilling everywhere. Once it was rolled, the driver refused to let him smoke it in the van, to which Raffa responded by having his first hissy fit, followed by another beer.

With each beer, Raffa gets more animated. As the three of us in the back start to pretend to be sleeping, Raffa starts harassing the driver and the Isreali guy in the front seat. He wants the radio on, and the driver won't turn it on, so they start to fight over it as Raffa moves into the front to turn it on himself (this happens a few times over the course of the trip). He starts talking to me, even though my eyes are obviously closed. When I don't respond, he taps, then wacks, my feet to get to me to respond. The next two hours are much of the same. Raffa goes through cycles of beer, harass front seat, harass backseat, get annoyed when people don't pay attention, ask same questions over and over (I was Sarah for the whole ride), cry, beer. When telling us a story of needing to visit, or having, a child in HueHue (a town on the road to Xela) he starts to bawl, and look for a hug. I discovered that Raffa is very a very sensitive person.

In case you haven't guessed it already, Raffa is very very drunk when we get to the border at the end of the three hours ride. I was curious as to whether they were actually going to let him into Guatemala. They did. Things started to take a turn for the worse at the border. We had about an hour wait until our next van showed up (the cars don't drive over the boarder, so you have to switch. don't know why.). Over the course of this hour, I try to distance myself from Raffa and sit in the shade where he couldn't see me. He proceeds to drink another 8 beers and starts talking to all the other people who are standing around. He comes over to us (I'm now sitting with the other 2 people on my van) to ask us when the driver is coming, every couple minutes.

When the driver finally arrives and we unload our bags, Raffa is so happy that he goes up to the driver, hugs him, starts to cry and won't let go. As soon as the driver gets out of the hug, he leads us over to the car and says "He's drunk" to which I respond, "yes, very." Now we all start to wonder whether the new driver is going to let Raffa into the new van. From inside the van we see the new driver, the old driver, and some man chatting - obviously about Raffa. The new driver goes over to him and appears to tell him that he can't come in the van. Raffa starts to cry and follow the driver around. This continues for a few minutes until Raffa walks off for a bit. He finds another tourist who is smoking a cigarette and decides that he wants it. When the tourist won't give it to him, Raffa starts to reach for it. The tourist still refuses and Raffa decides to head-but him (ala world cup finals). Now he's definitely not coming into the van. He and the driver have one more exchange and Raffa sees another van slowly driving by. He opens the door of this van and tries to cram himself in it. He is kicked out, gives one last teary look at our van and storms off, leaving one of his bags behind at the border.