Thursday, January 7

Bad chicken?

(For your sake, I decided not to include pictures with this story.)

They say that the ruins at Chavín de Huántar are so powerful that they have an effect on some people. I guess that some people is me, because I woke up the next day with terrible nausea, and spent the next 12 hours puking my insides out. 

Maybe that was Chavín's way of getting me on my knees. If I was praying to the porcelain god, at least I was praying.

It was probably just a serving of bad chicken and old french fries I ate at the restaurant our tour guide took us to. The Brazilian woman we ate with refused to eat the cold plate, saying that was a sign it wasn't fresh. I should have listened to her, but I was too hungry to stop. 

Luckily, our cable TV in the hotel saved me with a Star Wars marathon dubbed in Spanish.

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