Cooking and eating through a new culture

Words of Wisdom

I somehow believed I should write a lot but it has come to my attention that
it is the little things that mean the most.

Case in point: Never, and I mean never, leave candy in your purse or bag when
you live in a tropical environment. A common practice for many from the North.
Having a quick hard candy to pop in when you have a sore throat or hick-ups is
always handy, especially when you get pulled over by the cops (not that I ever
needed to do that). But lets just say, after a few dinners out you accumulate a
couple of peppermints, for just such an emergency, and go about your usual
business; in and out of hot cars, sitting out enjoying a picnic in the sun,
marching around the city, etc. Do you have any idea what happens to those little
sweets in this climate? They turn into melted sugar turds or more appropriately,
ant crack.

Now I like to rotate between three bags, depending on where I’m going and of
course, what I’m wearing. It’s not unusual for Ticas to match everything,
from clothes to shoes, nail polish (fingers AND toes) to eyeshadow. I’m not
that extreme, so allow me my bag exchange.

So yes, that was me. The crazy Gringa freaking out in the middle of San Pedro
because I just realized that creeping feeling I had for the past fifteen minutes
while walking to Automercado was not my imagination but all the fucking ants
pouring out of my bag on to ME! I was flailing around like I had seizures but
instead of foam spewing from my mouth, it was my vast reservoir of profanity.
Little old ladies were crossing themselves thinking I was possessed and many,
many Ticos would go home and Google the word “motherfucker”. It was that

Sorry. There are no pictures. Unless there is something posted on Youtube.
I’m not sure…but I wouldn’t be surprised.


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