-^-for posterity-^-

sometimes you eat lunch only because you know you won’t have another chance to eat until supper. you’re not really hungry, you only eat out of habit. other times, you eat lunch and your stomach is screaming out to you from inside your belly. it yells and bubbles and churns and begs for food. today was one of those days.

after eating a small bowl of rice for breakfast and working all morning, one tends to be extremely hungry by about 11:30. during the semester, we normally eat at the international guest house where meals are prepared by a very nice lady and her staff of young girls in pajamas. when the semester isn’t in full swing, we’re forced to scavenge throughout the city to find some sustenance. the city is packed with small stands that sell dishes of rice for about 25 cents. you can walk in, sit on a small, plastic and colorful stool and choose from two or three different things. did you want rice with pork? with chicken? with fish? what kind of soup would you like? would you like something to drink? tea or lemonade? pretty basic.

some days we just want to eat at home. today i have to finish grading over 100 english literature finals and my mind is numb with ‘issues of justice’, ‘human mortality’ and all the other ideas the classics conjured. i went out and gathered food in the jungle of the city.

my first stop was the bread lady. we were just going to have sandwiches and there is no mcdonalds for miles. she has a boxy, glass stand on the side of the road between two other sandwich ladies. they all sell the same sandwiches but there never really seems to be any competition. they all charge the same prices and make them the same way. we always go to the lady in the middle for some reason. her husband cuts hair behind her as i order. he is a stern looking man and always seems to be cutting the hair of a small, grey-haired old man. i ask for two cheese sandwiches and one sandwich with eggs. i tell her that i’ll be back in about 10 minutes. i drive down the road to buy something to drink. i go to the ‘sinh to’ lady. ‘sinh to’ is a kind of slushy, fruit drink. i drive through crowded streets, stall at one point in an intersection and blush as i try to restart my motorcycle quickly, and arrive. i ask for two ‘sinh to’ made from pineapple and papaya. they make them with sweetened condensed milk, ice, sugar and fruit (as if pineapple and papaya were not sweet enough.). she puts them both into plastic bags and i leave. 70 cents. i go to the small market near our house to buy fruit. i haggle with a few people and select a small, football sized watermelon. it’s too big, but at about 40 cents, not a bad deal. i stop by the smoked pig stand and buy a small, smoked pig ear for the dog. people would be sorely offended if they knew i was giving it to a dog, but i tell them i’m making soup. my final stop is back at the sandwich lady where her husband puts down his scissors for a moment to give me my three sandwiches. he glares and mumbles the price. 75 cents.

i drive home, jack, jota and i eat and i go back to grading. we don’t have the ‘luxury’ of fast food restaurants, but everything is much more fresh and there is such a variety. you could go out and buy any number of things that had been hanging on trees or munching on leaves as recently as a couple of days ago.