meatloaf

I'd give a translation, but I am not sure what the word is for "meatloaf" in Spanish. (Is it a bad sign that Criss did not tell us what it was when she served it to us?)

I have no problem with meatloaf, but I was indeed surprised to find it here in Mexico...

A few days ago, I received the following brief message from Brett: "Don't eat the meatloaf."

Well, I'd already eaten the meatloaf. And I am guessing, as weird as that dish was, it wasn't the cause of the terrible digestive tragedy that has overtaken the two of us recently (Kathleen and myself). I won't go into details, but she fell victim to it before I did, and then I got it today - and it has been pretty bad.

So, for the foreseeable future, I will be eating the Mexican equivalent of grits. That is, once I get my appetite back.

For all of you who worry, please refrain from worrying! I've been keeping hydrated, and things are looking up. And the only reason I write about it is that this is the biggest news that's happened in the past couple of days... Due to rain, the fireworks were canceled this weekend; I have stayed in because I've had lots and lots and lots of reading to do (though it's been exciting stuff - an essay by Octavio Paz on "La Chingada" which is a bad word that I won't translate because I am polite... and chapters on verb inflections in Spanish... and more Mexican short stories).

Hopefully, soon, I'll have more photos for you all, and more adventure stories that don't include meatloaf and the importance of packing toilet paper.