In the nameless bar everything is a little grim, a little dirty, a little sad. A little like a funeral. One of the men grabs a woman by the belt, and they slowly stagger against the brightly lit jukebox without looking at each other. On a chair against the wall sits another woman with an older man, separated by a table cluttered with empty beer bottles. She is trying her hardest not to fall asleep, waking herself every now and again to serve a beer. In the corner of the room, there is, relative to the rest of the place, a festive atmosphere: A heavyset man sits with a woman clothed in luxurious güipil fabric, the colorful embroidery that distinguishes the various Mayan tribes in this country. The güipil is a sign of who is doing well economically -- these Mayan blouses use some of the finest cloth available in Guatemala.