Back from honeymooning in Peru. Happy to report I did not fall off a mountain, did not die of altitude sickness (despite feeling for a while like my eyeballs would explode from the pressure), and was not bitten by a llama. I did, however, learn the difference between an alpaca and a llama, and added this to my list of party tricks. You've been warned.
In Peru, the national delicacy, their delicious dish, is Guinea Pig. You can walk down Cuzco's cobblestone streets and find dozens of sidewalk cafes charming as any on the Seine or along Ringstrasse. Proudly emblazoned on the chalkboard menus out front: "Baked Guinea Pig."
Oh so many reasons to be a vegetarian.
Now, the gustatory delights of Guinea Pig aside, I also learned that the rural people of Peru ascribe amazing properties to this little rodent.
Hillary's health reforms have not reached Peru yet. But even if they could afford it, most rural people live so far away from a hospital, any serious ailment would either improve or kill them long before they reached one.
No problem! You got a Guinea Pig, you're in business.
Apparently the procedure goes this way: The practitioner takes a live Guinea Pig, holds it in one hand, and waves it over you. Like being wanded by an airport security screener, but with a Guinea Pig. Next (sensitive viewers may not want to read the next bit), they slice open the Guinea Pig to observe its insides. If the furry little beast had a bad heart, the human patient gets heart medicine, bad Guinea kidneys, the person gets kidney potions, etc. In Peru, "MRI" stands for Manual Rodent Inspection.
I did not have the Guinea Pig test, but here's a picture of me at Machu Picchu, soaking up the positive energy reported to emanate from Sacred Rock.
In Peru, the national delicacy, their delicious dish, is Guinea Pig. You can walk down Cuzco's cobblestone streets and find dozens of sidewalk cafes charming as any on the Seine or along Ringstrasse. Proudly emblazoned on the chalkboard menus out front: "Baked Guinea Pig."
Oh so many reasons to be a vegetarian.
Now, the gustatory delights of Guinea Pig aside, I also learned that the rural people of Peru ascribe amazing properties to this little rodent.
Hillary's health reforms have not reached Peru yet. But even if they could afford it, most rural people live so far away from a hospital, any serious ailment would either improve or kill them long before they reached one.
No problem! You got a Guinea Pig, you're in business.
Apparently the procedure goes this way: The practitioner takes a live Guinea Pig, holds it in one hand, and waves it over you. Like being wanded by an airport security screener, but with a Guinea Pig. Next (sensitive viewers may not want to read the next bit), they slice open the Guinea Pig to observe its insides. If the furry little beast had a bad heart, the human patient gets heart medicine, bad Guinea kidneys, the person gets kidney potions, etc. In Peru, "MRI" stands for Manual Rodent Inspection.
I did not have the Guinea Pig test, but here's a picture of me at Machu Picchu, soaking up the positive energy reported to emanate from Sacred Rock. It's very popular with the tourists, who can't wait to get their little shots of positive energy courtesy of this monumental Inkan stone, which just happens to be shaped like...
One last little bit of Peru lore about the Guinea Pig's role in evangelizing the Inkas. In Lima's big cathedral and Cuzco's equally impressive 16th-century sanctuary, are massive paintings of The Last Supper. In both paintings, on the table in front of Our Savior and the disciples, on a platter and with its four feet pointi
ng heavenward, is...
ng heavenward, is..."Take, eat. For this is my Guinea Pig, which was broken for you."
