Tortillas y mas

Where I come from, tortillas aren't that big a deal because we can get them fresh and hot, right off the press. But somehow, the tortillas here seem a little more real. I walk the street here everyday and the first week I was here I noticed an extremely old woman carrying a basket. She hobbled along, stopping occasionally to ask someone to buy what she had, but she never stopped to ask me.

Finally this week, she did. She was selling tortillas, and the many towels she had wrapped them in had kept them warm. I bought ten and made Mason quesadillas. For those wondering how is doing food wise, let me tell you if it wasn't for cheese and cereal he'd be dead. Anyway, I didn't have my camera and if you ask to take a picture, many Mayans ask for money. Here is a picture I took at a restaurant over the weekend. They cooked all the food over wood, and all I could think about was the great French chef, who died in his 50's after spending his life cooking over charcol. If I see her again, an I'm sure I will, I will ask to take her picture. There is no retirement for the poor.