Metal on metal. Rotor worn paper thin on backside. No available parts. Weekend approaching, shops closed. Four more nights in Coban. Just ordering a new rotor from Guatemala City was a nightmare in itself. Waiting for it would be another challenge. We set out to find things to do and actually fared pretty well.
One night Coban played Sanarate at the nearby estadio. Never have I heard such language at a sporting event. Even at Qualcomm when 50,000 drunk Bolts fans disagree with a pass interference call, the verbal reprimand is nothing compared to what streams across the futbol field here. Personal threats, questions of sexual orientation, and blasphemy of family members is common. That aside, the game ended in a 1-1 tie and Garen and I escaped with our lives.
The next few days brought steady rain and not much going on. One wet day we drank a bunch of coffee under an awning at an outdoor cafe and watched Titanic in spanish. "Jack, es muy frio!"
The next day there was a dog show in the town square. Not the kind where an animal is judged on beauty, gait, grooming and background, but the kind where people dress their mutt up in a cape and goggles and refer to it as super-perro. Camper sat quietly off to the side, and disappointedly stared them all down.
This particular street dog was highly qualified for what should be a new category in Guatemalan dog show: "best candidate for swift and immediate euthanasia."
We wandered the streets for hours at a time, discovering beautiful old cathedrals, busy mercados, and the ghetto
Finally our part arrived for 340Q and our brake guy spent the day putting it all together. His labor cost 190Q, bringing our grand total to less than $50US.
So long Coban.
We packed up that night and split for Antigua early the next morning.
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