Riding on a shuttle bus to and from touristy place has been our number one location for meeting people and hearing stories. This one is close to the top of the list.
On the way back from Lake Atitlan two weekends ago, we rode along a very, very sketchy road (that was closed the next day for a week ...) with 5 Americans and a 30-something Canadian aircraft mechanic from Calgary.
He came to Lake Atitlan about a month ago, intending to compete in a bike race and then peace out, staying for a total of 10 days. The race was an International Courier Race for professional couriers that required riding around on racing bikes for a day and then doing some charity work. Not a big deal. This fellow used to be a courier and he thought it'd be a good way to spend a vacation.
His second night at the lake, his friends took him out to dinner with a bunch of other white folks who lived in the area. What they didn't tell him was that a certain school teacher was coming--his college girlfriend who he hadn't seen in 13 years since they broke up.
The other van occupants were mostly female and they were eating this story up with a predictable amount of ooing and ahhing. One of them asked if she looked the same as she did in college, and our Canadian friend said, "Absolutely not--she looks better." At this point the emotional level on the bus reached unprecedented heights and we were all in critical danger of clasping our hands, closing our eyes, and sighing deeply.
When asked for further details, our friend, undoubtedly made extremely uncomfortable by the lavish display of emotion, shrugged his shoulders and said he didn't know what their relationship status was.
For the rest of the van, the story ended there, but yours truly managed to weasel out a few more juicy details at the rest stop. Our friend was trying to get home on time so he wouldn't lose his job (he'd already extended his vacation by two weeks), but he is coming back. "As soon as I sell my $12,000 worth of bikes," he said, "I'm quitting my job to come down here and be with her."
If anyone wants to film his story or otherwise get in contact with him, I might recognize a picture.
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