Bad bad bad and BADDER... Or "Why I am doing the Ten-Toe-Trek nowadays"


 

Well, crap.



The Von Trapp Children, singing the bad news to me



And I mean it. What I am about to tell you can only be summarized as "WELL, CRAP."  

Our car was stolen about a week ago. Yep. STOOOO-LEN. From the street right outside the Puppy Palace. Yep. My friend Amber and I went out to eat and then to listen to a band play, and when we got back to where the car was, all that was left were the Von Trapp Children singing, "So long, farewell, auf wiedersehen, adieu... Adieu, adieu, to your green Su-ba-ruuuuu..." 

Damn those smug Von Trapp Children!

As if we have the money to replace it. As if we can afford to be carless. As if we had insurance on it. Let's put it this way -- most people (95% or more) don't have car insurance here. Why? Because it's an extra expense that most people can't (and won't) afford AND because most of the cars are pieces of crap held together only with duct tape, twine, and occasionally, bungee cords. So really, why insure a bungee-corded-duct-taped hunk of crap on wheels?


But not our car. Our car was not a crapmobile. Iggy, our 1998 Subaru station  

We could fit everything we owned inside Iggy. And yes,
we realize this makes us look like the Clampett's from
"The Beverly Hillbillies." But that's ok.

wagon, was a nice car. Other than being a gas-guzzling monster, it was the perfect car for here. Four-wheel drive, with a few dings and dents (but you can't avoid having dings and dents and besides, the dings and dents help your car blend in better) and a perrrrfect interior. Yes, Iggy was just right for Guatemala. And he was GREEN. Green is a good color for a car. It ain't easy being green, but Iggy pulled it off with style.

(insert hillbilly banjo music here)

So, now I'm left walking to town every day. It's not a terrible walk and I won't bitch too much about it because there are plenty of people who have it far worse than me. It takes about 25-30 minutes but the road I have to take is a winding, dusty, pot-holed 2-lane street lacking sidewalks in some areas, and in others, the sidewalks are about 2 feet off the ground so you have to jump UP to get on the sidewalk and when it ends you have to jump back DOWN. It's like a step aerobics workout AND a walk all rolled into one. Richard Simmons would be yelling to me, "You go girl!" if he could see me on this walk. Work it! Work it!

The municipality is attempting to repave sections of the road before Semana Santa (when a gazillion tourists will descend upon Antigua for numerous religious processions -- more on that later) so while they're out there working, I have to literally walk INTO traffic to go around their cones and equipment. Does the fun ever end? Oh no, it doesn't.

It's like a real-life version of the video game "Frogger" -- but this time I am the frog. Ribbit-ribbit.

And with every step I take on that walk to town, it only reminds me how mad I am that someone decided to steal what wasn't theirs. 

I want to find who did this and tie them up, coat them in bacon grease, pour hot cheese on them, then roll them in hamburger meat and offer them up to the dogs from the Puppy Palace as a human snack. I would just stand back and laaaaaugh and laaaugh... Heck, I'd probably take pictures, too.

And what's worse is that I had just purchased -- and lugged -- two giant 5-gallon containers of water into the back seat of the car. So, whoever stole the car is well hydrated, too. I wish I could go pack in time, pop open the lids of those water jugs and pee in both of them, just as a tiny form of revenge. You want to drink my stolen water? Fine. But I'm leaving you a little gift inside...

Until we meet again, stay thirsty (for non-stolen pee-laced water) my friends...