Well that didn´t take long

I was wondering how long it would be before my ¨food issues¨reared their ugly head. Answer: less than 24 hours.

It got off to a really great start. For breakfast on Sunday Elvia served me a nice big chunk of delicious, juicy, fresh out of the earth pineapple, a croissant, and mango juice. Delicious. If I could eat like that everyday I´d be happy. Lunch was also a winner, with chicken and pasta. No problemo. Except that she gave me so much there was no way I could finish it. Then came dinner. As soon as I walked into the dining room, I wished I had stayed upstairs and eaten peanut butter straight out of the jar. Or gnawed my arm off. Sitting at my place on the table was a very, very large bowl of soup. Potato and vegetable soup. Oh CRAP.

Earlier in the day at the SuperMaxi, Eliva asked what I liked and disliked. The conversation went something like this: Fruit=good. Vegetables=bad. Meat=good. Fish=bad. I did not drop the potato bomb on them. I didn´t think they could handle it. My own parents have a hard time handling it. (Our other daughter, they say, is normal, we swear!) Being the trooper that I am, I sat down and dug in. I ate the broth, working my way around any potatoes or vegetables, but getting an occasional carrot or onion or (gag!) mushroom. I was just beginning to wonder when I could keep up the charade when Elvia said, That´s OK, you don´t have to finish. (At least I think that´s what she said. She speaks Spanish, and I speak English, and we use an elaborate display of sign language, and sometimes we kind of understand each other.) I told her I was so full that I just couldn´t finish. Then Jaime (or Rodrigo, I´m still not sure which is which) asked me how I was adjusting to the altitude. Loss of appetite is a symptom, so I was saved by the altitude. Crisis averted.

Until this afternoon, when I came down for lunch. Roast beef and a huge helping of mashed potatoes. (I don´t know why she thinks I´m going to eat so much!) Somehow, I managed to eat half my helping of mashed potatoes by mixing it up with the roast beef. I didn´t enjoy it, but I didn´t die either. So far, I think I´ve been able to convince them that I´m just a very light eater, instead of the food freak that I am.