Don't worry, in a minute we'll call the fatherland

So, tonight I went out for some (overpriced and kind of blah tasting) Chinese food after an action-packed adieu to San Cristobal with Danna. Upon returning home, I paid my cab driver and walked toward the stairs. My path was interrupted by... a man sleeping in front of the stairs? Clearly he wasn't homeless, but he was passed out at the bottom of the stairs! I got over the surprise quickly, surmised that the man was breathing, and said, "Disculpe?" (Excuse me?) Nothing. "Disculpe?" Nothing. "Disculpe?" Still nothing. I tapped his shoulder; nothing. The door to my first floor neighbors' apartment was open, so I bid them good evening (We "Buenas Tardes/Noches" here more than we "Hola" each other) and asked them if they knew the man sleeping at the bottom of the stairs. "He's been drinking, I think," the daughter answered. Okay, that's probably true, but he is unconscious and alone lying on cement and his family has abandoned him. I look shocked at her calmness. "They'll come back and get him," she tells me. I'm still shocked. "Ahorrita llamamos a la patria." In a minute we'll call the fatherland?? My shock turns to confusion, I say ok, and walk upstairs as the situation is in their hands. If this wasn't a place with extemely corrupt cops, I would have already called them myself, but they might just make things worse, so I let those who are native to the culture figure out what to do with the grown man who is acting like a college Freshman.

I went up to my apartment and gave the neighbors about five minutes to... call the fatherland/national heritage?? Not sure if this means the police, or the guy's friends, or none of the above. Anyway, I went back downstairs and the guy was still passed out but sitting on the stairs, and the neighbor girl (about 18 years old or so) was talking through her cage door (we all have them). I said, "Did his friends come?" "No, se fueron." They left?? "Yes, they left him here." "Y el vive en este edificio?" No, he doesn't live here. I'm shocked again, but I see they are giving him water (or at least lemonade) and monitoring the situation, so I can with some peace of mind resubir to my apartment. Just when I thought living here couldn't get any more interesting.

Note: the picture has nothing to do with the situation, except for the fact that it was taken three stories above where the story above takes place, but I know an all-text entry can be boring! This picture is from the first or second week in Tuxtla, and is of me and my roommate.