We thought everything was cool and that the locals were totally used to gringos cruising their turf. That's when I suddenly understood exactly where we were. We were in the hood. I had an immediate comprehesion like the feeling the captain of the Titanic had when he first saw the Iceburg. We shouldn't be right here, right now.
As we passed by two little Mayan kids standing in front of a squalid hovel, one of the little bastards chucked a rock into the side of our car. He must have been trying to break a window but it hit the metal with quite a loud bang and put a little dent below the back door handle. I took off at a high rate of speed but P wanted to stay and fight. First, it would be almost impossible to catch an 11 year old kid in his own neighborhood and what are you gonna do even if you did? Besides all that, our vehicle would become a stationary target and they might be able to take better aim at the glass.