Yesterday was a rather boring and gray day and I figured I would spend it in bed, catching up on my missed episodes of Grey's Anatomy. Which is a show that I have come to dislike for its soap opera-esque plot and character development [if you could call it character development]. But I've been watching it for six years and am not willing to just walk away from all those hours I've invested in these fictional people. In the middle of streaming an episode, our lovely friend and restaurant manager, Morris, told us all he was going to open Cilantro's just for us, and make us coffee.
So six of us and Morris headed downstairs, turned on the lights, and pulled down some chairs. Right then, the sky exploded and dumped rain all over the city. Morris made us coffee and we all sat and drank and listened to the rain and Peruvian folk music [not to be confused with Peruvian flute bands]. It was incredibly peaceful and the perfect thing to do on a rainy Sunday.
Morris then offered to cook us all dinner. Which required that two of us go to the store, in the pouring rain, and get the ingredients. So Paula and I volunteered. And ventured outside in our pants and tank tops, running on the slippery Argentinian sidewalks [they use some strange tile type material to pave their sidewalks here] to Coto. It was the most hilariously awesome experience. Until we had to run back home, this time carrying bags of food. It was the most fun I've had since I arrived here and I was wet for several hours.
We ate upstairs, like a tiny family, from Israel and the U.S. and Colombia and Chile and England and Switzerland. Not a single person from the same place as another person at the table.
I ended up finishing the night with the remaining episodes in the Grey's Anatomy season. Which was maybe not the best idea given that it was a shooting, shot almost documentary style, and freaked me out more than any episode of television or movie ever has. And I thought, well at least I can watch LOST first thing tomorrow morning...