Muy Cuy BAD

In my extraordinary adventure to Peru, I made it a personal mission to accomplish a few goals. Climb Machu Picchu. Check. Sleep in a room crawling with Geckos and not cry. Check. Eat Guinea pig. CHECK!

As I mentioned previously, Serg and I were nearing the end of our adventures in South America. We had been to Lima, capitol of Peru, and experienced their Rum and sunsets. We ventured inland to Cusco and completed a marvelous journey to the top of Machu Picchu and back. We climbed (via first class bus) north to Mancora, or yet Tropical Paradise. As we sat in the bus terminal cafe awaiting our final hours before departing to the Homeland, it dawned on us-

We had NOT yet consumed the Peruvian delicacy- The cute and fuzzy pet in The States, consequently named fluffy, snowball, or Marvin. And when I casually mentioned to my traveling companion that we were to miss the bus on said conquest, the kibosh was put down. We WERE to taste this mysterious creature. Serg immediately abandoned me, and upon his return (3 minutes later) had Peruvian dollars in hand and declared to have a plan!!!

Since we had nearly 12 hours before our air bus was to chauffeur us home, Serg and I had planned to consume alcoholic beverages for the majority of the remaining time. The plan differed a bit, thankfully, and thus brought us to our destination- a 4 star restaurant where the preferred plate was the one and only Guinea Pig.

***Side Note*** A gentleman we met at a hostel in Lima told us about a small town in Peru where they hold an annual guinea pig competition. In this event, people dress the animals up in trousers and hats, shirt and little shoes. The winner (in which I am unclear as to how the decision is made, and on what components it is decided that the GP wins) is declared safe, and can live as a pet while the others are stripped of their tiny clothing, fur, and ultimately, their dignity and thrown to the kitchen; where their destiny awaits to land on some foreigners plate at a 4 star restaurant.

Though I was aware at some point on this trip I would have the 'privlage' of tasting such a 'treat,' I definitely found it necessary to have a big glass of wine pre pig. And after some bread, an appetizer, some more wine, and a brief mental 'pump-me-up-pep-talk,' it arrived. There it was, all intact, like someone had just put it in the deep fryer whole, complete with arms, legs, HEAD, teeth, claws, and even some hairs that hadn't singed off. Yes, I would have been more than happy to pass over this meal, and indulge in a burger, chicken sandwich, or even a bowl of sludge, however, I attached my balls and chowed down on this little monster.

Maybe it's cliche to say it tasted like chicken, but it did. All of the giblets were intact and were not pleasing to the eye or stomach (as Serg claimed, seeing that I was brave, but not that brave), and I concluded that there was not much meat on the bones. I didn't eat too much, because let's face it, it was guinea pig. I am indeed happy I tried this interesting dish, unfortunately, my stomach was not....

...Blasted GP found revenge on Serg and I by blessing us both with explosive, not to mention frequent bathroom visits. It is normal for me to have anything and everything upset my sensitive, pussy of a tummy- but Serg can eat ANYTHING! Meat on a stick, done! 3 week old wedding cake, consumed! Raw fish from a side stand in the slums of Peru, completed! Grocery store cooked Chorizzo, vanished. (And I too ate the Chor y Pan, and unlike Steel Stomach Serg, consequently became nauseous). The Cuy (Spanish for GP) recked us both. Being that Serg ate the majority of the Cuy, he felt worse. It is not to say that I didn't have my own problems, and though I enjoy speaking about every bout of bowl movements, I will spare you the gruesome details- Let's just say it's really and truly BAD!

Finally, I must add that when laying on the beach a few days ago, I was nearly impaled by a momentum gaining, free falling coconut. I was on my stomach, tanning my ass, if you will, and I felt a large splash. Assuming some drunkard spilled their drink on me, I semi rolled over to see a not quite halved fruit emitting juice all over the sand. To think, If I had been a foot in the other direction, I could have been killed and spared all toilets in every facility I have visited in 48 hours. I could have copped out on the 'oprotunity' to eat Cuy!

Salud!