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The hotel I’m staying in from today until I leave is a rather generic, forgettable spot, but it’s just 20 feet away from Restaurante Chifa, an experience I doubt I shall ever forget.

When I first entered, the owner was eating at one of the tables, and looked up with shock when I entered. All of the chairs in the room except his were lined up against one wall, away from the tables. The idea of someone actually coming into his restaurant and ordering something seemed completely foreign to him. I was about to find out why this was.

Turns out he just got here from China and speaks even worse Spanish than I do. It takes me almost five minutes to express to him that yes, I am a customer and yes, I would like to order to chaulafan(fried rice).

He brings the dish over, and it’s a simple enough fried rice bowl. It was only when I began digging into it that I realized the horrors that lay inside. Among the slightly more easily identifiable meats(oh god I hope those were meat) was what I could only assume was liver of some sort. Now I’ve eaten liver before, but this was a whole new world-changing experience. It felt like this liver and my own liver were about to fight to the death(probably mine) and it was anyone’s guess which would come out on top. So what I’m saying is it was kind of gross.

Now to be fair, my judgement of the ingredients of the fried rice only extends to those that were actually edible, as there were a few pieces of who-knows-what that I eventually just spit out after realizing I’d break my teeth trying to chew them.

Nooo I got granola on my bed

Businesses here work so differently in some ways. In the US, most places stock up on coins and bills so they can always give you change in the largest units possible. You need $4.65? You’re getting 4 ones, two quarters, a dime, and a nickel. It’s very convenient and efficient.

Life in an Ecuadorian hostel is like a box of chocolates. You never know when your shower is going to work.