There's this thing called the Heisenberg Uncertainty Principle. It's all about particle physics and is way over my head, but I'm about to pretend I know all about it. Basically it means that at any given moment it's impossible to know both the location and velocity of any certain particle. As you get closer to knowing one, you must become less certain of the other. Philosophically speaking, this seems to provide an interesting argument for free will, but that's for another faux-intellectual entry. I will, however, explain how it applies to bus travel in Central America.

"No one will agree on where."
It is not possible to know both the location and time of departure for any particular bus here. You may find out what time they leave, but no one will agree on where. Then when you arrive at the street corner where they depart, you'll hear widely varying accounts of what time to expect the next bus. If only I were traveling with Carl Sagan or Steven Hawking.

So I've come up with a workable solution for this problem. First, you must give up the idea of asking for information. When it comes to transportation you must poll for information. Fortunately, with a background in marketing, I have some knowledge of polling. I begin

Inside the Chicken Bus

with a random sample of respondents drawn from those who appear likely to know of bus departure times. I screen out infants, elderly and the infirm. It's been my experience that industrious kids are often the best source. Therefore I over-weight responses from anyone under fifteen who's pushing an ice cream cart or hawking newspapers. After five to ten responses I review results. If my data confirm a clear preference I take that as a working assumption and move on to step two.

"Confirming my assumption with bright-looking locals."
Step two is simple. An hour or so before departure I head toward the departure place, confirming my assumption with bright-looking locals along the way. If most of them agree, I move immediately to step three.

Step three is to pray.

With my three simple steps and some luck I arrived in Chichicastenango around eight-thirty this morning. It's not cool, by the way, to call the place "Chichicastenango." Be hip and just say "Chichi." Thursday's market day here,

Colorful Stuff for Sale in Chichi

which means about five square blocks of the center are closed to traffic and lined with people from the indigenous villages around the city selling absolutely anything. You want colorful jewelry? It's here. Kitchen utensils? Got it. Pirated CD's and live turkeys? They're just around the corner.

It's really interesting when you see one stall with tourists buying colorful woven bracelets, necklaces and blankets... then the very next stall is selling the raw string to locals who'll make more stuff and bring it to the next market. In the words of the inimitable Elton John, it's the circle of life.

"It's weird being on my own again."
I said bye to Aaron and Rinat yesterday morning. Rinat's heading to Antigua and then flies out of Guatemala City. I may still see Aaron one more time but he spent another night in Coban.

The Last Supper... or Luch with Rinat and Aaron

It's weird being on my own again. I'd been with those guys for more than half my trip. Nearly three weeks. It was great always having company and not having to constantly be trying to meet people if I didn't want to. I might add that they were also great fun to be around and terrific people generally.

But there are good things about being on my own. I tend to just go where I'm led when I'm with others. Rather than expend energy deciding where to stay or where to eat, I just wait till somebody moves and follow them. I also like to be shorn and tend to gravitate toward old men who carry crooked staffs. Now, though, I'm forced to make some decisions and think about where I need to be heading. That's good.

"How little we know..."
I simply must stop neglecting my email and write some now... but before I go, my friend Edan emailed me this piece of a news story today. How little we know about what goes on in television.

Tom Brokaw was snorkeling off the Virgin Islands Saturday morning when he saw the boat's captain, 40 feet away, frantically waving. Two planes and less than nine hours later, just before 6 p.m. EST, he was on the air anchoring NBC's Columbia space shuttle coverage from Cape Canaveral, Fla.