Damn Mexican Food

It finally happened.  I finally went to Mexico and got a healthy dose of the Mexican Flu.  I decided I should take advantage of being sent to these exotic locales and spend some time exploring their treasures.  So off I went to the Pyramids on Saturday!  Yes, you shall see the pictures and experience it in a posting in all its full glory, because it's amazing, but here's where I will likely lay blame for the sickness and public humiliation (well, not really) I endured on Sunday.

Our tour van had the most fascinating and fun people I have ever met on a tour.  There was the Grandma Diva, the Krazy Kiwi, New Yawk Columbian couple, the Dutch Photographer, and the Firefightin' Chilean couple.  Really diverse, right?

By the time we rolled into lunch, we had two of the three pyramids under our belts, and we were really in need of a beer.  I mean, there's a lot of steep climbing and for me, a lot of fretting coming back down.

The "specialty" of the little cantina was the Molcajete meal.  Lots of cooked meat in their "drunken sauce" served in a piping hot volcanic rock mortar.  On the side are ~4-inch corn tortillas that are used to fashion little tacos with all that's available.  Almost everyone at the table got the same thing.  So far, I know of one other person on the tour who has gotten sick, and our common food intake is this Molcajete dish.  And that's enough evidence for me.

As I ate this meal, I remember thinking that this version was far better than the one I had had months earlier in Mexico City.  The first time I had it, it was as dry as the Gobi Desert.  There was nary a drop of sauce to be had.  The Drunken Sauce of this variety was the clincher, making everything moist and bring a wallop of taste.  I actually enjoyed it.  The Kiwi to my right, however, finished his meal quickly and deemed it as "rather disappointing."  Then he learned of the sauce.  "What sauce?" he said. "Oi!  What sauce?!?"   Ahh, too late, too bad...

There was one thing that we both left in its singularity in the rock, and that's the sausage that you see laying on top.  He ate it first, and mentioned that he just wasn't sure what kind of animal this could possibly be.  Pshaw!  I thought... until I put it in my mouth. And then I wasn't so sure myself...  Alas, we each ate about half of it.  Hmm.  We really need to see about the Grandma Diva.  She ate it all.  If someone is going to get sick on Mexican food, it has to be her...

After a fun-filled evening that included seeing the best cover band I may have ever seen in my life, called "What The FUNK," and to which I am totally a groupie now, flash forward to Sunday's diary.

6AM - Feeling a little uncomfortable.  Must be all the Jameson the night before.  Run to the sink where I proceed to dispel everything that could possibly be in my stomach left over from the night before, and maybe half of my large intestine.   But hydrate before I board a plane, I must!  So I down a whole bottle of Fiji water.

7:30AM - In the lobby checking out.  Whoa, it seems extra chilly this morning.  This lady better check me out fast because I... and out spewed that entire bottle of Fiji water onto the pristine floor of the 5-star Intercontinental Hotel.  Check out lady's face is priceless.  Mixture of panic, care, and disgust.  I might have laughed if I didn't feel so awful physically and about the elderly Mexican gentleman cleaning everything up.  Try to give him a nice tip, but he refuses to take advantage of the situation.  I respect the man even more.

8:20AM - About to pass through airport metal detector.  Uh-oh.  Where to go?  Where to go?!?!?!?  Too Late!  Where could this have possibly come from?  Security lady's face is even better.  Total panic and I hear her saying in Spanish that she needs an English speaker NOW!  Then a very gentle male's voice, "Miss?  Okay?  Okay, miss?"  I look up, and he's holding out 4 squares of toilet paper while I have watery barf all over my hand.  "Okay," I say, and wave off medical assistance.  I do, however, ask for more toilet paper.  They let me pass through without any other questions.

9:40AM - In the boarding area, but keeping my eye on the nearest restroom.  Boy, was that a good move.  This time, I can get to some kind of receptacle and manage to hold my hair back.  Where the hell is all this liquid coming from?!?!

10AM - In my seat, and thank goodness it's first class.  The United flight attendants are stellar and keep me supplied with flat ginger ale and water while an Argentinean male and Brazilian female flirt loudly in the seats behind me, keeping me in a perpetually restless sleep.  After all that, they better have exchanged numbers, otherwise I'll be pissed.  Almost hurl when I get a whiff of everyone else's in-flight meal.  But I don't.

Ugh.  I guess the positive is that I've now lost 5 lbs.  As my boss said, "Best diet ever."