Chronicles of the Wayward Moot

WELCOME TO THE MOOT, oh world-wanderers and word-whisperers. After two years of Peace Corps. After 2,200 miles on the Pacific Crest Trail. What. Comes. Next?


More hermano as we leave the Cerro formation after a COLD night.

The Accion de Gracias spread. It was more romantic with the candlelight. I'd like to say that such an atmosphere was a luxury, but it was more a necessity since that day the electricity AND the water were not functioning in that part of the city.

Getting to know the locals a bit. That's a skinned cow head. Pucker up!

The chonta grubs that Kingfisher brought from her jungle site in the Oriente. They died in transit and then sat around for another couple of days while we went camping. I do not recommend smelling them after such an ordeal, unless you need to wake someone up from a 15 year coma or something.

Yes, we did of course whip up some more of that famous and much-touted Guinea Pig Gumbo, an Ecuadorian specialty! Saxaphone man brought two live furry friends down from his sierran site and we dispatched them on my rooftop. That wasn't so difficult, but removing the fur is not a simple process, there are tricks. Tricks that we didn´t KNOW! Apparently the water has to be boiling hot, but not TOO boiling hot. Next time, we'll do better. Yes, that cuy's eyes were devil red like that.


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