We ran out of gas which means the stove was out of commission. My host mom uses a fogón (outside stove that burns wood) sometimes, which is what she used to make lunch, but that was out of the running for dinner.  

Why didn’t she think of this earlier?

Why are there no vegetables here, and for the past few weeks, no fruit?

Why is the only food around here that doesn’t need to be boiled before consumption stale bread rolls?

Why am I eating stale bread for dinner and dipping it in juice that has literally had sugar ladled into it?

I could have meditated on Clarisa who is still in high school and does all the cooking for her family. When I’d said, “But that’s a lot of work!” she’d shaken her head, “There’s not food a lot of the time.”

Instead, I got all quiet and pouted, caring about carbohydrates, while I reluctantly ate the bread rolls she gave me.

I think it’s safe to say I would not be pleasant on a night where there was no dinner.  So don’t think I’ve become some kind of wonderful, humble nurturing spirit. I still have my proud moments of being petty, spoiled, and entitled. 

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