Well, you´re English teacher was wrong. And that includes me if you were ever in my Brooklyn classroom.
In any case, I used to have this other travel blog that went sideways by biways long ago, years in fact. So this is my next endeavor to be maintained for the rest of this summer trip down in Peru. Check it out, but not too often, because I can only be accountable about two weekly.
Soon: Some pictures of cool stuff I´ve seen and really silly things that I do.
Also upcoming: The Great Trek and a Peruvian Named Willy
Booyah! And enjoy.
Monday, June 30, 2008
Wrigglely Jelly Stuff Drink
¿Que tal? What´s the dish? ¿Que passe? Well, lots and little. I´ve discovered that the fantastic heart of Peruvians beats loudly in Arequipa. I really had a fantastic time there and I made some discoveries outside of the regular tourist circuit.
Among these, I´ve found that one of the nicest things about Peru is that you can eat, all the time, anywhere. The locals make it easy as there is an infinite amount of street food, most of which I cannot identify, nor do I try to. I see people crowding around a hot cart on the sidewalk, so I mossie up, and order whatever the person in front of me ordered, and I ask questions later. This is how I got addicted to the weirdest drink in the world, for seriously. Despite it being my cultural favorite, I do not know the name of, so I will dub it Wrigglely Jelly Stuff Drink, and I shall also say that it is a surprise for the tongue.
The efforts that it takes to make this drink is astonishing, and I´d like to ask the glove clad server if she has a degree in mixology. First, a short glass is dunked into a hot water basin which "cleans" it. Then a series of syrups are added, I only know the color order, not the substance: murky yellow, current red, cloudy white. The last one pours a little slower and makes a bit of a gloop bloop sound as it churns it way out of the bottle and into my glass. Next, the cover is lifted from a steaming pot boiling a mixture of good smelling herbs. The clearish brown tea (?) is ladeled into my syrupy concoction, and the passed from shaker to glass, shaker to glass to mix it up. The swill of liquids is handed to me and I tip it down my throat. AH! It´s like hot gelitan, WEIRD! Think of trying to drink melted jello, that tastes like Celestral Seasons, and try not to barf. Then, it gets good, cuz you get used to it, and ya kinda like it, a lot.
Now, unlike most sidewalk food and drink stands, this one is a bit different because you´re obliged to stay because you have the property of the propriotor in your hand. That glass, remember! But I really dig just standing around the cart, listening to pretty words, people teasing little kids, and probably making fun of me for being a non-articulate gringo. After handing back my glass my insides are coated with some gelatinous gloop that was delicious and I have a hot and happy tummy for the rest of the night!
Among these, I´ve found that one of the nicest things about Peru is that you can eat, all the time, anywhere. The locals make it easy as there is an infinite amount of street food, most of which I cannot identify, nor do I try to. I see people crowding around a hot cart on the sidewalk, so I mossie up, and order whatever the person in front of me ordered, and I ask questions later. This is how I got addicted to the weirdest drink in the world, for seriously. Despite it being my cultural favorite, I do not know the name of, so I will dub it Wrigglely Jelly Stuff Drink, and I shall also say that it is a surprise for the tongue.
The efforts that it takes to make this drink is astonishing, and I´d like to ask the glove clad server if she has a degree in mixology. First, a short glass is dunked into a hot water basin which "cleans" it. Then a series of syrups are added, I only know the color order, not the substance: murky yellow, current red, cloudy white. The last one pours a little slower and makes a bit of a gloop bloop sound as it churns it way out of the bottle and into my glass. Next, the cover is lifted from a steaming pot boiling a mixture of good smelling herbs. The clearish brown tea (?) is ladeled into my syrupy concoction, and the passed from shaker to glass, shaker to glass to mix it up. The swill of liquids is handed to me and I tip it down my throat. AH! It´s like hot gelitan, WEIRD! Think of trying to drink melted jello, that tastes like Celestral Seasons, and try not to barf. Then, it gets good, cuz you get used to it, and ya kinda like it, a lot.
Now, unlike most sidewalk food and drink stands, this one is a bit different because you´re obliged to stay because you have the property of the propriotor in your hand. That glass, remember! But I really dig just standing around the cart, listening to pretty words, people teasing little kids, and probably making fun of me for being a non-articulate gringo. After handing back my glass my insides are coated with some gelatinous gloop that was delicious and I have a hot and happy tummy for the rest of the night!
No Matter How You Say It, Yo La Tango
All it´s taken was about two weeks in Peru and I´ve basically crushed the mortal soul of every French speaker in the universe through my misappropriation of their glorious tounge and managled it with International English into a concoction only to be called Spenchish. I have really great success with my efforts: I can order a variety of food stuff, like guinea pig or coffee with milk. I can also ask how much something costs, like a llama. If I really try, I can expertly haggle down prices of groceries, cab rides, alpaca wool stuffs, and hostel dormitory rates I can usually get the price I want too, haha! (After my bout with those fearsome old ladies in Morocco, I forever revenge the 40 euro henna art on my arm that should have only cost five! Oh you bewitching thives, you´ve taught me such wise lessons!!) I will make the exception in price however when the thing I want will cost me 16 soles, which is a tricky number, and I can´t remember it, so I just ask for 15, that´s closer to its French cousin.
Luckily for me, Dan Davy caught up with me in Arequipa down south in Peru, and has down a finer job than I gracing our hosts, waiters, guides, dealers, and friends with converstion. Charming and ridiculous, Dada has won many hearts in our company, and hopefully his jokes about shampoo and dragons never get old, and we´ll continue to have happy Peruvians around us. Lalalalala!
Luckily for me, Dan Davy caught up with me in Arequipa down south in Peru, and has down a finer job than I gracing our hosts, waiters, guides, dealers, and friends with converstion. Charming and ridiculous, Dada has won many hearts in our company, and hopefully his jokes about shampoo and dragons never get old, and we´ll continue to have happy Peruvians around us. Lalalalala!
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