My friends and I arrived in Trujillo by bus early this morning. The principal of the school we aim to work at greeted us at the bus station and took us to our hotel.
I’m feeling good after the 12 hour trip (or however long it was). I brought sleeping pills. I popped in one of those babies when the TV was loud (in Spanish) and went to la la land. And when I woke up I was….let’s just say, relaxed.
We are in the central business district, and as we arrived I saw the sign directing to the Chan Chan – an ancient city that is world heritage listed. There’s old churches and fountains, and probably museums.
I was excited when I passed a book store, and I couldn’t get it out of my head. I had to leave the others when we gravitated by a McDonalds (in two hours time the lunch menu will be available) because I needed books! Books! They called to me.
All the books called to me in Spanish, it seems. My heart broke a little, just a little, as I stood in that dusty book store with the covers all illegible to me. I shouldn’t have been surprised, and I wasn’t really, but I stood there, and among these books, in this store with that slight book smell, I could close my eyes, breathe in, and smile.
Don’t judge us! But then we gorged on McDonalds. And it tasted like home, mostly. I had a double quarter pounder and the buns tasted different, and the meat had a slightly different aftertaste, but it was the little things that were perfect. The pickles and the sauce and the flavour were good.
I even was able to replace the coke with Inca Kola. I wish we had Inca Kola at home. It’s even better than Mountain Dew and since that’s my favourite drink I don’t make the claim lightly.
I know it seems wrong in a way to come here and eat McDonalds. Yet McDonalds is much a part of this culture as it might be in ours. Sometimes you miss the details of home and need that crutch.