Friday, January 18, 2008

Who Wants Fish?

January 11, 2008



Charging down the bumpy road into the city in regular weather is scary enough but when it’s covered in a thick sheet of snow and ice and it’s negative 10 degrees outside, I start to pray every time I get in a car. Today was no exception, as at one point on the ride home the taxi driver lost control of the car and skidded off the road.

“Are you scared Angela? Are you alright?” he asked laughingly over and over again as I yelled and clutched onto the door with all my strength. Luckily we had only gone halfway over the snow bank and we were able to get out and push the car back onto the road. The snow was coming down pretty hard at this point.

But it was an adventure, nonetheless. It took almost two hours to get into the city this morning because of the crappy weather, and when we got there everything was closed. No post office, no internet café, no bank…nothing. However, I’ve learned to accept this happening without getting angry now because nothing is ever how you think it’s going to be over here.

So friends and I wandered through Mary trying to find a café that was open, which was pretty much impossible. Then we met a man on the street who told us he would find us a café…and the adventure continued, but the only place that was open was catering to some type of funeral party.

“Many people have died,” the man told us in broken English, but he might have meant that many have come to mourn. Who knows?

So we made our way toward the taxis and at the nearby bazaar he bought a gigantic bag of etly somsas (meat pies) and handed them to us, refusing to take our money. We finally found an open café with a few tables by the taxi stand at that point and we walked in and sat down. Then the man opened the large purse he was carrying and proudly pulled out a fish with every intention for us to enjoy it for lunch.

I told him I wouldn’t eat it and he didn’t understand why. He was asking the ladies working in the café if they could cook it for us.

“No, I’m not going to eat your fish,” I told him. Without having a good excuse I just told him I’m allergic.

He laughed and we offered to buy him a beer but he said he only drinks whiskey. So we found him some whiskey and we ate meat pies and drank instant coffee and had a jolly good afternoon. He insisted we take his phone number and we come hang out with him whenever we come to Mary. He was one of the coolest people I’ve ever met in this country.

But I’d like to add that I’m pretty open-minded when it comes to trying food, and I’m sure his fish would have made a delicious meal. I just usually try to stay away from animals that random people on the street pull out of their purses.

2 comments:

Unknown said...

Yeah... good call on the pocketfish.

Following your instincts like that will probably save you from "spraying like a cat" (so to speak).

stuffisthings said...

That fish was totally fine. It's funny that your problem with the guy was his fish, and not that he was plastered before noon and told us he used to be a criminal but is now a "good man."