A Slice of Life with your Slice of Pizza

Two nights ago, here in Cuenca, I went into a pizza place. It was kind of tucked away in an alley. It was empty. Saul, the owner, was sitting there reading a book on pre-Socratic philosophies. I threw out a gratuitous comment about Heraclitus and thereby exhausted my knowledge of pre-socratic philosophers but it was sufficient to start up quite a conversation.

Only two other customers came in that night. I attempted to include them in the conversation and got these blank looks. I thought my Spanish wasn´t THAT bad. Then I noticed they spoke English with Saul and it turned out they were from Pakistan! They were wholesale jewelry merchants selling to local dealers. They ordered pizza and beer.

I foolishly said something like "You´re from Pakistan and you´re drinking beer!?" I instantly regretted it. They hung their heads very guiltily and one began to explain at length that he hardly ever drinks alcohol, but that tonight was a special exception. I tried my utmost to laugh it off, as if it were nothing, but the damage was done. I felt bad for Saul because as soon as they finished their pizza and beer, they quickly left the scene of the crime. Oh well, as we say down here, "What happens in Ecuador stays in Ecuador."

One small pizza, two beers, and about 4 hours later, I went back to the hostal, after Saul and I had resolved all the problems of the world.

The next day, in my hostal, there were only half a dozen people there. In the mornings we all sat together for breakfast, so everyone got to know everyone else pretty well. There were 2 girls from Argentina in their early 20´s, Augustina and Maria. They said they knew Quincy! What are the odds of that!

Both of them have spent about 3 months apiece the last two winters working at Heavenly Ski Resort, scrimping and saving as much money as possible to be able to travel. They were on an incredibly tight budget, as all traveling Argentines are. They got the cheapest bus ticket possible to take them on to Peru, with the result that the bus left at 3 a.m. That evening, they were sitting in the hostal figuratively twiddling their thumbs, waiting for the time to pass.

After talking with them for awhile, they suggested we go out for pizza and beer. I said I know just the place! While walking to Saul´s pizza place in the company of these two lovely young ladies, I had the opportunity to witness Latin American machismo first hand. These ladies were subjected to leers, looks, and whistles. I had heard women, both natives and tourists alike, complain about male behavie in public in South America. However, obviously, I had never personally experienced it before tonight. These girls said they had grown accustomed to it, even though they found it disgusting.

At the pizza place, sure enough, there was Saul, reading a book (for the purpose of writing a literary review!) on western religions. Again, we were the only people in the place until Saul´s friend, the guitar player, arrived. The guitar player knew an incredible number of songs and began playing and singing Argentine tunes for a couple of hours to the girls´delight.

At the end of the evening, Augustina said that the next day was her birthday and that she was delighted to celebrate it so well so far away from home. How touching!

Tomorrow I´m off to Quito! Hasta luego.