Last night, around one in the morning, I felt my bed begin to shake, ever so slightly, back and forth. My first thought was that this was the work of ghosts (to be clear, I don’t believe in ghosts, but I do believe that if there were ghosts, they could haunt me whether I believed in them or not); however, after noticing that the water on my nightstand was also moving and that all of the street dogs had started barking at once, I determined that this was probably a small earthquake (though I suppose a sufficiently powerful ghost could probably pull off both of those tasks as well).
I had some trouble falling asleep, and lay in bed wide awake until around 3:30 or 4am. Then, having barely closed my eyes, I was awoken at 5:10am by dance music blaring from across the street. As I stumbled to the balcony for a better view, fireworks began to erupt. Roughly thirty minutes later, they decided to turn the volume down a bit, but the music continued without stopping until around 10am, all the while I prayed for an act of divine violence to break the speakers and return my peace and quiet. After my Spanish class, I tried to take a nap, but I was only able to sleep for about an hour before the party music resumed. It was at this point I decided that Chiapas has too many holidays.
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