I'm Superwoman. Street food cannot harm me.

Yesterday, after a lovely hike to Laguna Chicabal, I got back to my site craving street food. A woman I know sells pupusas (corn tortillas filled with cheese and/or chicharon (fried pig skin)) but only on Saturdays, so I was stoked. Sadly, though, no one brought her chicharon, so she didn't make them. I would've been more than pleased with just cheese pupusas (actually, preferrable), but she didn't make those either.

Instead she made empanadas: cheese, apple and some milk thing. I went for cheesy and was told it'd be 5 minutes. To kill time, Patita and I strolled through the park (where she pooped, how embarrassing!). When we came back, she was still making them, so we chatted about the murders reported in the newspaper while I waited. I got less and less excited about my empanada as I waited, though.

She and her children who were helping her were coughing and wiping their noses. Then she said to someone, "Como me esta afectando la fiebre." Translation: "This fever is really affecting me." Crap, I thought, I am for sure getting sick from this. Last time I had pupusas (in another town) I ended up with amoebas. But I don't learn. At this point it was too late to cancel my order so I cringed as I continued watching them make my food. When it was served to me, I ate it. It would've been rude otherwise. Food is a very sensitive subject in this country.

Turns out, it was pretty delicious and I just thought about that as I ate it.

I was fully expecting to be throwing up with diarrhea today, but *knock on wood* I am feeling healthy, and, typically, food-borne illnesses hit within 24 hours (I should know). Thus, I am superwoman. On another note, the neighbor boys call me "superchica" because I can turn tires inside out.