Day 3- Lunch

Today I bought a mango and a pocket knife from the market. My mother forbid me to eat any pre-cut or opened fruits without skins for fear of some disease or that my stomach might not be able to handle it. I understand mostly, the water isnt very clean and I really dont know where the knifes or fruit has been.  But the fruit looks so good, so I had to improvise.  I took my perfectly ripe mango to "Parque Central" and sat on a bench to watch the people.  There was a book fair going on and that happened to be attracting many visitors and annoying tourists.  It's always fun to people watch.  I finished my mango and put away my book and knife and walked an extremely long ways to a hotel with a "safe" ATM machine.  Just inside the gates of the hotel was an exquisite garden and selection of stone fountains.  It was huge!!  I walked in cautiously because the beauty made me feel selfconcious in my old tshirt and Toms shoes.  A couple more steps in, I could see the reception about 100 meters from the entrance, and a bird flew over my head.  The colorful feathers made me look twice. A parrot was now perched on one of the jungle-y looking trees. I had to just stand still for a moment. I was looking at a real life parrot! It was beautiful.
For lunch I made my way back across town to the market again. I wanted to buy a tortilla to try for lunch and I remembered seeing many stalls of women preparing maza, dough, and cooking them over large metal sheets standing precariously over fires. I didnt want to sit down at a touristy restaurant or inside some random cafe.  I saw a group of young girls eating tortillas topped with beans and some types of salsa so I approached them and asked where I could find what they had been eating.  They pointed me to a stall, but I could see that they were putting chicken all over everything (I'm not kidding, they eat chicken with everything imaginable in every way possible).  My vegetarian request evidently merited a special stall, so a boy about 13 years old took my hand and wove me through a whole new section of the market that I had never before known existed.   We entered a huge warehouse building filled- packed!!!- with dozens of stalls selling food and providing tables to rest.  It's completely hidden in the heart of the market by stalls that surround the walls, as if protecting it from intruders.  I let myself be lead across through the rows of restaurantitos divided by colorful concrete blocks and cloth.  Finally he introduced me to a girl around my age who sat me down at a tabled filled with other customers and told me she would take care of everything.  All I had time to say was a reminder that I didnt eat meat.  I looked around me and immediately smiled.  This was pure culture- not a tourist or foreinger in sight, except for me, who was getting a lot of strange looks.  To my right was a young couple with a small child.  They seemed to find me particularly amusing.  Three teenage boys were watching the game very intensely. Across from me was an old man with a fake Hollister polo on.  He was scarfing down some fried chicken, rice with chicken, and chicken soup.  To my left was a police man with an extremely funny mustache flirting with one of the cook's daughters.  Music was playing over loud speakers wired throughout the warehouse. It almost drowned out the chatter and commotion that echoed from the hundreds of people, but it was not very successful.  The soccer game- Guatemala vs Nigeria was playing on every TV and various radios.  In all, it was an extremely busy and loud place.  The girl brought me plate of food and a basket of tortillas.  The plate alone looked beautiful. It was piled with rice, frijoles, an ear of corn and two vegetables that I have never in my life seen before.  Before I even took my first bite I was appreciative because I could see the family 3 feet from me all working and baking together.  The mom was making tortillas, and the daughters each doing different side dishes. She asked me what I would like to drink "Agua, o Fresca?" and I said nothing because I had no idea what "Fresca" was, and I knew I shouldnt drink the water.  But then the police man was delivered a white, cloudy liquid in a glass.  I looked around and everyone was drinking it. I asked the girl what it was and she said "Fresca" with a hint of "duhhh". Then in response to my potentially quizzical face she added "Horchata."  I said I would actually like a glass. She grabbed a clean one from a rack and went to a paint bucket in the corner of the room and dipped a laddle in it to pour several scoops in my cup.  I tried it hestitantly (I still have no idea what is in it or what it is made of).  It was delicous!! I drank it quickly and ordered another. It was cool and refreshing and perfect because I was so hot from walking all day. I've found my new favorite drink.  Eventually I'll have to research what it actually is.  The food was equally delicious and the two mystery vegetables were my favorite.  When I had finished I brought my plate up to the booth and asked the girl what the vegetables were called.  She said something that sounded native and exotic "guisaquil and quicoy."  I had her write them down because I knew I could never remember.  I've yet to look them up, but maybe I can sneak some of them back in my suitcase :) Though the lunch was only 13 Quetzales (equivalent to almost $1.50) it was worth so much more.  This completely raw Guatemalan culture is so rich and friendly and beautiful, much different from anything I have ever seen.