Restaurants near the city’s bus station were my favorite places to eat in Ecuador.
Beans, rice, meat—usually chicken—an egg, a small juice. A checked tablecloth, a small TV on a high shelf, a soccer game.
All that for a buck, buck and a half.
Plus: a shy waitress surprised a gringo spoke Spanish and impromptu chats with local diners, always curious, always polite.
Where was I from? Where had I learned Spanish? Didn’t my family miss me? (California; California; Yes, lots.)
I miss those folks. I hope they’re okay, but with the pandemic raging, I fear they’re not.
© Copyright 2021 by Jim Latham