There's not always a good escape route. I might have had one to avoid eating slimy worms, but on another occasion my plan was not quite so foolproof.
The conference was nearing an end. By being quite adept at finding the more "civilized" Maquiritares to sit with during meals, I had avoided all unsavory morsels. My escape routes had worked. Or so I thought....
On this day I was earlier to the dining hall than normal. I seated myself by a group of women (men and women ate separately). I was feeling quite pleased with myself. What I failed to consider was the fact that the seats to my left were empty. A group of very backwoodsy women arrived, chattering happily, so pleased to find the seats next to me vacant. Seating themselves, they began to offer me some of their delicacies. There was no escape. There was no where to run, no where to hide --- at least not without being offensive, and that, I did not want to be.
Large ants floated on the surface of the water in the plastic dish that was set before me. And then they weren't floating --- they were swimming! They were trying to escape! I was ready to help them, but restrained myself.
Upon my admission that I'd never ate ants before, they were eager to guide me in how to do so without getting my tongue bit in the process. It was getting more interesting by the minute!
You bite the head off first, killing the ant and preventing the possibility of being bit. Then you pop the remaining body of the ant in ... and down it goes!
Think cod liver oil capsule. That's about the right size. The juice oozing out of the body and down my throat definitely had an oily feel to it. Juice. I had to name it something besides "ant guts" to manage to let it glide down my throat without any embarrassing regurgitation!
I survived, the women were thrilled, and the realization came that it's not always best to have an escape route. Some things in life just have to be experienced.
The conference was nearing an end. By being quite adept at finding the more "civilized" Maquiritares to sit with during meals, I had avoided all unsavory morsels. My escape routes had worked. Or so I thought....
On this day I was earlier to the dining hall than normal. I seated myself by a group of women (men and women ate separately). I was feeling quite pleased with myself. What I failed to consider was the fact that the seats to my left were empty. A group of very backwoodsy women arrived, chattering happily, so pleased to find the seats next to me vacant. Seating themselves, they began to offer me some of their delicacies. There was no escape. There was no where to run, no where to hide --- at least not without being offensive, and that, I did not want to be.
Large ants floated on the surface of the water in the plastic dish that was set before me. And then they weren't floating --- they were swimming! They were trying to escape! I was ready to help them, but restrained myself.
Upon my admission that I'd never ate ants before, they were eager to guide me in how to do so without getting my tongue bit in the process. It was getting more interesting by the minute!
You bite the head off first, killing the ant and preventing the possibility of being bit. Then you pop the remaining body of the ant in ... and down it goes!
Think cod liver oil capsule. That's about the right size. The juice oozing out of the body and down my throat definitely had an oily feel to it. Juice. I had to name it something besides "ant guts" to manage to let it glide down my throat without any embarrassing regurgitation!
I survived, the women were thrilled, and the realization came that it's not always best to have an escape route. Some things in life just have to be experienced.
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