Andres de Larrainzar for several months.rnThe small rebel zone is surrounded—rnprotected would be a better term—^by arn”civil corridor” of Red Cross workersrnwho, in turn, are surrounded by the MexicanrnArmy. Cholera is endemic in thernrebel zone. Lengthy negotiations aboutrnthe possibility of negotiating the commencementrnof negotiations continue.rnMeanwhile, tourism, the one sure-firernincome producer that the state of Chiapasrnhad going for it, is grinding to arnhalt. So too is the cultivation of illagernlands.rnYou purchase an overnight bus ticketrnto San Cristobal de las Casas, one of therntowns briefly overrun bv the Zapatistasrnback in 1994. You are warned that busrnhijackings arc becoming more commonplace,rnso you put your passport, creditrncards, traveler’s checks, and most of yourrncash in a small purse which you thenrnslide down into your pants. You leave 20rnone dollar bills and assorted small pesornnotes in your wallet. You climb aboardrnthe first-class bus, watch a movie on thernvideo screens, and drift off to sleep.rn”Andale! Andale! AndaU, Chavos!rnSomos Zapatista]” No, this can’t be happening!rnThe bus is stopped on the windingrnroad leading to San Cristobal. Thernbig overhead lights are on. It is 4:00 A.M.rnhi the aisle are five little Indian men withrnred bandannas pulled over their faces.rnThree are brandishing old .58 caliberrnpistols. The other two hold what appearrnto be 410-gauge single-shot shotguns.rn”Dame tu dinero! Rapidol” They movernfrom passenger to passenger demandingrnmoney. You carefully pull out our walletrnand hand over the contents. Notrncjuite. In your nervousness to extract thernbills from vour wallet, you accidentallyrnleave one ten peso note inside. He seesrnthat. Whack! A shotgun barrel to thernside of your head. “Dame todol” hernscreams. You hand over the remainingrnbill. That’s not enough. He must alsornCan the Racial Problem be Solved?rnAn American Rciuiissana: Cwnfcrcnce. May 25-27rnRace is still the American dilemma. The “civil rights,”rnIntegrationist approach has brought none of its promisedrnrewards. Is it time to rethink the assumptions of the past 40rnyears? Join us in Louisville, Kentucky over Memorial Dayrnweekend (May 25-27) for a frank, uncensored exchange.rnSpeakers will include:rnDr. Samuel Francis (contributing editor. Chronicles:rn”the Clausewitz of the Right.”)rnProf. Philippe Rushton (author of Race, Evolution, andrnBehavior, pioneering scholar of racial differences.)rnJared Taylor (author of Paved With Good Intentions;rneditor of American Renaissance.)rnProf. Michael Levin (author of Why Race Matters; widelyrnpublished commentator on race and public policy.)rnLawrence Auster (author of The Path to National Suicide:rnleading thinker on cultural implications of immigration.)rnRabbi Mayer Schiller (author of The Guilty Consciencernof a Consetrative: authority on Jcwish-Geniile relations.)rnFor iaformatioii, write or call: Aiiii-ricaii Ktnals.sancfrnBox 1674, Louisville. KV 4()2(U (502) 6.^7-3242rnhave your Minneapolis Public Libraryrncard and your Republican NationalrnCommittee membership, both of whichrnlook like credit cards. And so it goes,rneach passenger getting the same treatment.rnOne Italian is pistol-whippedrnuntil he liberates himself of his Italianrnshoes!rnYou are herded with the others outrninto the darkness. All passengers are libcratedrnof fanny-packs, pocket change,rnand wristwatches in the process. Onernmember of the gang holds a shotgun onrnthe crowd while the others quickly gornthrough the bus grabbing every purse,rnsmall backpack, and fanny pack that hadrnbeen slid underneath seats in the confusion.rnYou are then herded back onto thernbus. The bus driver starts the bus, andrnyou continue down the road.rnCigarettes are fired up everywhere,rnsomething strictly forbidden on Mexicanrnbuses. Even the driver lights one up. Yournhave one too, even though von haven’trnsmoked for years. Passengers look franticallyrnfor their bags and purses. But, alas,rneveryone has lost everything. Money,rnpassports, credit cards, traveler’s checks,rnairline tickets. You don’t mention thatrnyou’ve still got all of yours down yourrnpants. No need to rub it in.rnYou continue ten miles down thernhighway to a federale station. The distraughtrndriver explains what happened,rnthen locks himself in the bus lavatory,rnwhere he remains for the next severalrnhours. Six federales, each brandishingrntwo semiautomatic rifles, jump into arnland rover. So, too, does a passenger whornknows the area well and can pinpoint thernexact location of the heist. You standrnaround and smoke with fellow passengers.rnThe foreign tourists are particularlyrndevastated, having lost passports and airlinerntickets. Luckily, the undercarriagernluggage wasn’t touched. The bus companiesrnin this area have taken to lockingrnthe compartments at each station. Therndrivers do not have kevs, and hijackersrnknow this.rnThe federales return after about threernhours. They found one wallet sin dinerornon the ground where the incident tookrnplace, but nothing more. They shrugrntheir shoulders. The driver lets himselfrnout of the lavatory and climbs into hisrnseat. The passengers reboard the bus,rnand off you go, arriving in San Cristobalrnat 11:00 A.M., four hours later than expected.rnYou learn that several busesrncoming from Guatemala—your intendedrndestination—v’ere robbed during thern42/CHRONICLESrnrnrn