The Guatemalans have a great name for the young guys who go around harassing people with their bible bashing. They call them Huevos, which is the Spanish word for eggs and a slang name for testicles. They call them this for three reasons. They are always male, they hang around in pairs and they are always different heights.

I have always been more than a little worried about what goes on between the ears of these colts, but the other day I had final confirmation that there is every reason for serious concern. As I was walking up the street one quite warm afternoon in Oaxaca I passed a couple of them. They were attired in the usual toned-down, seriously un-cool version of the blues brothers outfits. Name tags on their wholesome chests proudly displaying which particular nondescript "elder" they happened to be. They were standing there looking all at sea which I thought was fairly appropriate.

Ten metres further along the footpath I was passed by a couple of very good-looking girls who were obviously feeling the heat a bit as they had very few clothes on. I thought this was the perfect opportunity to see if the elders really were brain dead.

I stopped and turned around to watch the reaction as the girls passed the boys. Nothing, absolutely nothing. Not even a sly peak at a cheek as the gift wrapped girls sashayed past. I was stunned. It confirmed what I had thought, these are very sick puppies who most definitely should not be let into one's home.

When gathered, as a flock, they also make for very bad neighbors. Two different lots of friends of mine have the misfortune of having an evangelical church next door. They make a fearful racket at what could fairly be called particularly un-godly hours of the day and night.

One of these friends, a New York Italian, works on the theory that it's best to fight fire with fire. The church next to him happens to have a corrugated iron roof and given the size and volume of the amplification system they use the noise inside the church must be incredible. It's bad enough outside. And they all sing so badly. Why is it that the evangelicos don't attract their fair share of good singers?

One of the things I love about Latin America is that not only are fireworks not banned -they are sold everywhere- but also that they are used with reckless abandon. Further, they come in all shapes and sizes including ones which are home made, triangular in shape and nothing more than a goodly sized pile of gunpowder tightly wrapped in newspaper with a two inch fuse shoved into it. These are generally about four inches wide and if one explodes anywhere within ten metres of you the shock waves of the blast are easily felt. Just to make them a little more hazardous the fuse doesn't give you much time to do whatever it is you wish to do with it, particularly if it's a bit dodgy and spits and jumps when lit.

You can probably see where this is leading. After considerable amounts of lost sleep and ignored complaints my friend struck on the idea that the odd one of these home made bombs slung on the corrugated iron roof during a service could have an impact. So to speak. Not being one to ruminate overly on ideas, he implemented the plan.

Like many good plans though, not everything went exactly right the first time around. The launch pad for these mortars was his backyard. On the first attempt my mate lit one, took a long, full arching overarm swing that Dennis Lillee would have been proud of and let fly. The only problem was that he had not taken into account the clothesline which was a nice taut line of wire strung right across the backyard.

Ten feet from launch, traveling at full velocity, the bomb hit the clothesline. My friend assures me that it came back directly towards him at a most unnerving speed. He just managed to dive inside the back door, mercifully open, before the two inch fuse burnt down to the gunpowder. He said his wife was rather upset by the resulting explosion just outside the back door.

He tried again, this time giving the clothesline a wide berth. The bomb hit the church roof. The effect was, I gather, immediate. Somewhat like shoving a stick in the entrance to a beehive and giving it a bit of a wiggle. After the rather agitated bees had returned to their hive, the buzzing from within was at greatly reduced decibels.

Notwithstanding minor teething problems, the fire-crackers did bring considerable respite for some time. Not permanently however. These idiots not only believe there is a god, but also, as self-righteous idiots are wont to do, they believe he is on their side. A self-righteous idiot is indeed a formidable opponent. After some months of pleasant night's sleep they gradually wound the volume up again.

Now as everybody knows, if you are lying awake for hours at a time on account of the noise some ratbags are making, you have lots of time and motivation to think up ways of either making them shutup, or seeking revenge. Stuff along the lines of……… "how would you like it if someone did that to you?" My mate is no different to other folks in that regard. Where he tends to be a little different from the rest of us is that, as I alluded to earlier, he is not inclined to shrink from action.

I think the plan he came up with was a pearler. He took the speakers from his house stereo and sat them out on his roof, pointing at the god botherers. He hooked up the leads and gave it a quiet little test run. It sounded nice and clear.

The best part of this plan though was his choice of what to play. Someone had once given him a tape of some ranchero music. This wasn't just any old ranchero, which tends to be not much more than irritating or a bit unpleasant. This was a group who seemed to specialise in songs about boozing, fighting and whoring and weren't at all averse to using quite colourful language to graphically describe the scenes. This music selection was nothing short of an inspired choice.

He gave it to them, an hour of it, as loud as his speakers could handle.

Fabulous stuff. That was some six months or more ago and they have been very reasonable neighbors since.

www.nangana.com