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A Memorable Feast

"Viva La Mexicoboom boom boomViva La Mexico" the radio sang out, as the dust kicked up from behind the Chevy van. It was good to be on solid ground. We had just spent the last five hours creeping through Mexico's central mountain range. It was exhilarating. One moment I was gripping my seat as I looked ahead at the disintegrating road and the clusters of crosses that served as a cliff barrier. And the next, I was completely mesmerized as I surveyed the breath taking view of the valleys nested between the mountains.

My traveling companions, three crazy guys from Belgium, and I each had a musical instrument and we played in bars for food and cerveza. We considered ourselves to be modern day gypsies on the road of endless adventures.

It was getting dark when we finally found a place to clean up and get a meal. We hadn't eaten for hours and we were all feeling the pains of hunger. There wasn't much on the menu, as it was only a roadside dinner. You pretty much ate what ever it was they were serving that day. And it looked like we would be paying for this one.

"What are you serving?" my friend asked the old woman that was sitting on a stool.
"Carne and beans." She replied.
"What kind of meat?" I asked.
"Carne." She barked back.
"This should be interesting." I muttered.

As we waited, I quietly looked around the dinner. There were a few tables covered in checkered cloths and some old, brightly colored, wooden chairs that needed repairing. A picture of Jesus and Mother Mary hung high up on the wall, watching over the inhabitants of the place.

Our food arrived. The old chipped plates were loaded with beans, some meat and a side of salsa. After a few mouthfuls of beans, I tried the meat. It was dark and had the texture of beef jerky. Unable to cut it with my knife, I picked it up with my hands and began to gnaw at it. It was strong in flavor and very stringy. I cringed. I looked to my friends who were happily digesting every mouthful. That didn't surprise me, as one of them had once eaten our left over food that had been ridden with ants. I dared not to consult with them. Instead, I continued to eat what was on my plate. Then I felt something rub against my leg. It was a cat. It was then that I noticed there were a couple of cats wondering around. I thought this was odd. Normally one always sees dogs scavenging these roadside dinners. I looked to my friends, no longer able to conceal my distaste in the matter and whispered, "Guys, I think we are eating Rover". They laughed, shrugged their shoulders, and mumbled something about the food chain.

Learn more about this author, Patricia Travers.
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