Cuy is Chewy. An Ecuadorian Story.

Our guide just shook his head as he watched me eat some of the delicious street food that I found in Quito Ecuador. I was with the Eastern Oregon University Chamber choir on tour. As luck would have it, I had just landed the role of Tevye in "Fiddler on the Roof" so I was growing my beard and hair out for the part. Ecuador + Beard and Long Hair = Surface of the sun hot, in case you were wondering.

"This will probably make you sick" said Pablo. "The locals can eat it, but Americans get sick."

I couldn't help myself. Right outside our hotel was a place where several street food carts had set up for business and I was able to smell it from my room on the sixth floor. The smell was intoxicating! Even though the elevator was broke and I knew I would have to walk back up the six flights of stairs (at over 9000 feet elevation, no small task for a chubby boy), I still made my way down to the street vendors to sample their wares.

But the fact was, I didn't get sick. Pablo was amazed.

"I was sure that you would be very sick for the next couple of days" he said.

After that, Pablo pointed out other street vendors to me whenever we visited new towns. For whatever reason, I have always been able to eat most anything without any ill effects, and Ecuador was a treasure trove of new taste experiences. To Pablo's continued amazement, nothing made me sick.

In Guayaquil I was directed to a particularly tasty cart with some seasoned meat. It was amazing!

"What kind of meat is this?" I asked Pablo.

"Um...pork I think" he replied vaguely as we watched a pack of homeless dogs run across the street.

At one stop we had an Ecuadorian delicacy called Cuy (sounds like "koowee").  Cuy is what we call "Guinea Pig" here in the states. As one choir member put it: "Cuy is chewy". 

 All was well...until we stopped at Manta.


The town was picturesque. I was happily enjoying myself as I lay in a hammock beneath some palm trees, the sound of the ocean lulling me to sleep.


And then it happened. A man with a cart pulled up right on the beach.


"Hello" I said to myself "what do we have here?"


I sauntered over to see what new taste experience awaited me. Glory be, it was shaved ice and a whole host of flavors! It had to have been 90 degrees out, so this was just what the Doctor ordered!


I tried out some of my newly learned Spanish. "Cuánto cuesta?" I asked. In broken English he tells me the shaved ice is .50 cents. Nice! 


"Tres" I say eagerly. I choose three different flavors and make my way back to the hammock. Rocking with a light breeze and three shaved ices....I could have cried from sheer happiness.


That night, I could have cried from sheer misery. Let's just say it involved both ends, sometimes at the same time. To say I felt terrible is an understatement. While the food didn't seem to give me problems, the water is a different story. Whatever bug was in the shaved ice water came to life and wreaked havoc on my system.


When I told Pablo what had happened, he couldn't stop laughing whenever he saw me throughout the day. 


"The shaved ice got you in the end" was his joke. 


Yeah. Both ends.

"The Look"

I had been married for less than 48 hours. We were on our honeymoon at the Oregon Coast. We were driving north towards Oceanside when I glanced up from the road and saw a HUGE house on a hillside overlooking the ocean.


"Whoa!" I say to my new bride "look at the huge house!"


A chilly frost blows towards me from the passenger seat as my wife looks over at me. This is the first (but definitely not the last) time I've felt the awesome power of..... "the look". 

I had always heard of "the look", and I had witnessed "the look" from a distance whenever my dad did something that my mom disapproved of, but I had never felt the full force of "the look".

Until now.


But what in the world did I do to deserve "the look"? We were having a pleasant time driving the scenic byways having a lovely conversation. Why, oh why, did I feel like I wanted to run and hide under a log as the full force of "the look" was unleashed on me?


"I knew you weren't listening" my wife tells me. "I just now said, not even ten seconds ago, 'look at that huge house'. I knew you weren't paying attention to what I was saying."


Oh.


I've felt the power of "the look" many, many times during our 15 (I think) years of marriage. Once I experienced it for a several days in a row. Naturally I didn't know why I was receiving "the look" 24/7.


"What day is it?" my wife asks.


"Thursday...no Wednesday. Today is Wednesday." I say.


"No. What is the date?" she asks. Somehow I know the date is a clue to why I'm getting "the look" day after day, but it's eluding me.


I consult my wristwatch. 


"Ummm...November 11th." I say. There is something significant about November...Thanksgiving! It has something to do about Thanksgiving?


"So, what are we going to do for my birthday three days ago?" she asks.


Wha...? How...why...doh!

I believe I'm still suffering from frost bite from that little adventure.


I also found "the look" just as potent when I forgot our anniversary...twice.....in a row.


The thing is...I have equal opportunity amnesia. I forget my own birthdays as well. I am the easiest person in the world to throw a surprise party for because I don't remember what day it is.

Now my wife just goes ahead and marks things down on a calender. She'll point at important dates and say, "Three more days until my birthday" or "What are we going to do for our anniversary next week?"


Unfortunately, I don't appear to have the power of "the look".  I've tried variations of "the look" and nothing. Zilch. Zero. Nada. It actually causes laughter when I try to implement "the look."


I do have one weapon at my disposal. I call it "voicing my displeasure with emphasis."


My wife calls it "whining".