There were a lot of things in Peru that confused Becca not the least of which was food.
Each morning she sat at the table pondering why a large bowl of popcorn was sitting in front of her with an egg on top. Of course she never complained because hey, popcorn.
Each afternoon she wondered where the idea that corn could be liquified, fermented and served with sugar to form the ancient union of chicha had come from.
Each evening she gobbled bread and meat. Dinner had become her favorite meal for this alone; it was simple and it involved the days leftover bread. The best dinner occurred just after she returned from her vacation with cheese from Ancash. It was a different type from the queso fresco that was popular in Lambayeque. This was more like the cheese that she ate at home and Becca was excited to try it but as she looked around the table she saw faces that were all too familiar; faces that she was certain she’d used herself on several occasions: the smiles of thankfulness despite a mouthful of some substance that they clearly didn’t like. She grinned at her family and they all grinned in return. The cheese sat on the table for three days before eventually disappearing entirely without another word.
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