Xela, or at least the downtown area around Central Park, feels kind of like a college town. Everyone knows everyone, and everyone knows everyone’s business. Really.

I was showing a new Trama volunteer around today, and I think I said hello to about 500 people.

“You know everyone,” she said.

“Don’t worry,” I replied. “It only takes about a month to get there.”

Xela is also like a college town because everyone always goes to the same (shitty) clubs every week. For extranjeros and the Guatemalans that love them, there is for all intents and purposes only two clubs in Xela matter: La Rumba and La Parranda. Wednesday night is salsa night at La Parranda, and Friday it’s at La Rumba. La Rumba is seedy and plays horrible music 75% of the time, but it’s always jam packed on Fridays. La Parranda is slicker, classier, and generally more enjoyable place if you’re in the mood for the same old thing.

So even though they complain about these clubs, everyone goes back again and again to see everyone that they know. Oh, we all vaguely know that there are a bunch of other clubs five or six blocks north in the “Zona Viva” (where most Quetzaltecos go to party.) But despite plans to go to these more “authentic” places, come Friday it’s La Rumba again.

I’ve promised myself five or six times to never go back to another salsa night at these bars. But just like hangover promises to never, ever drink again, I never stick to my word. Because when it’s a good night, there’s a lot of fun to be had in these bars. Especially right now that it’s low season: in the summer Xela is jam packed with Spanish school students. In the fall it’s a different world: there’s actually a lot more Guatemalans that white faces at the bars downtown. That means more room to dance and an easier time finding a salsa partner.

(For the record, there is a fantastic variety of non-clubish, excellent bars in Xela for those not itching to dance. I will discuss some of these at a later date.)

On one hand, I’m not nearly the partier I used to be. Often, I prefer to read, write or spend time with friends at home, or watch a movie and/or guilty-pleasure television. Many times when I grab a beer, I feel tired and groggy, and end up going home early.

As well, going out is a huge expense, one of the reason it is so difficult for many people to travel on a small budget.

And, finally, drinking and going out late ups the danger factor quite a bit – you are much more likely to be a victim of crime anywhere if you are out late, or don’t have all your wits about you.

But on the other hand, there are many things I gain from going out. It seems, especially when abroad, that it is the main way of getting to know people and having a group of friends.

Also, while a truly incredible night out happens maybe 20% of the time, I do love a good party. You know, the kind that involves good vibes, lots of energy, funny stuff happening and so on. This past Saturday was one such night, another was my first night of this summer going salsa dancing. Such fun nights are why I keep going out, even though I know the majority I will get tired early and head home, feeling lame and old.

And finally, there’s an aspect of a place that can only be felt through its nightlife. I want, of course, to get a complete picture.

But I’m tired right now. I don’t want to feel obliged to go out and “have fun,” just because I am traveling. Because I am traveling, I think, I should follow how my body feels. But regardless (maybe due to that small part of me that is still 14-years-old and cares about what others think) I worry that I’m not going out enough and getting to know people fast enough. I need to keep reminding myself is that the reason I travel is to be more honest with myself.

Anyways, I maybe should not be writing right now. I discovered today that I have an allergy to something in the salad I made, and while my breathing became constricted, a dutch girl in my guesthouse tossed me some strong medicine. The good news was that the allergic reaction disappeared almost instantly. The bad news is, I should have followed her advice to not drink any alcohol tonight. I drank one beer at the bar, and immediately I found myself yawing and falling asleep almost uncontrollably. Since I’m so dopey, I’m sure my words are a little garbled and I apologize for that.

Anyways, some friends walked my exhausted butt home around 10pm. I went to my room, feeling lame and guilty that I’m not the fun-loving person that I like to imagine myself being.

But you know what? I’m going to enjoy this sleep immensely, and I’m going to wake up feeling great and ready to enjoy another day in this wondeful town.

In any case, my fourth trip to the lake (this time to the weird but beautiful new-agey village of San Marcos la Laguna) was lovely. Some of the factors making it a grade-A weekend:

1) It was free. That’s right, free. I was given the trip as a gift from my Spanish school for recruiting more business through my newspaper articles in Canada.

2) It was sunny. That’s right, sunny. Sunny and warm.

3) Great people. I’m happy to have two of my favourite friends from last summer back in Guatemala. In addition to hanging out with them, I got to know more great people from my Spanish school. Most of the people I got to know were really cool early 30-somethings. You know, the kind of fun and interesting people that makes me excited, not scared, of reaching my 30s.

4) The perfect set-up for a night of drinking: around a table at the hotel, with plenty of silly drinking games and dares.