Baby it's warm outside (and buggy)

I'm in a guest house on Simon Bolivar in Guayaquil, Ecuador. It's Saturday evening and the politicos are campaigning in true South American style at the riverfront across the street. A prerecorded and endlessly repeating marching band playing WHEN JOHNNY COMES MARCHING HOME, just drowned a lot of off key political favorites being played by a rock band. Now they've switched to the Marine Corps song. It's about 88 degrees and 75% humidity, which is perfect for political rallies, since both stifle thought and make your brain freeze. It's all pretty loud and in this heat I'm not sure how far I'd get in any attempt to escape.