When I signed up for classes and a homestay at La Casa en el Arból, my language school in San Cristobal de las Casas, I was excited to see there was a two-meal-a-day option. I had signed up for three meals a day in both my previous destinations and, faithfully attending those three like any student on a budget, I missed out on a lot of local food. The price difference was $10, which seemed like a good deal until I did the math. I had about $1.42 to spend per day. Even in Mexico, that doesn’t go far, but I seldom eat a big dinner here, so I figured something small off the street would do.
Two weeks after later—boy it’s been short, but so rich—and my only street experiences have been a single pork tamale and a cup of esquites, cooked corn with mayonnaise and chili powder. Instead, I ate with Giovanni.
I met Giovanni my first night in Chiapas. It had been a long day. Thanks to an overnight bus, I had arrived early enough to watch dawn break, then sat in the cold in front of my new school reading The Conquest of New Spain until the doors opened. Introductions at my homestay, a long sweaty search for a laundry mat, Spanish classes and a brief stroll into town followed. Thus, night settling in, I wasn’t eager to venture far for my meal. The pizza place I had already passed four or more times, just a curving three-quarter block from my new home seemed like a good choice. Besides, at $1 a slice, it would fit my budget.
Thus, at about 7 p.m., I came in and met Giovanni, the thirty-something owner who uses “chido” as liberally as a California surfer says 'cool'. (They mean the same thing, by the way.) He told me he hadn’t cooked any pizzas yet, but if I came back in about 30 min’s he’d have one ready. I came back about three hours later and, well, he invited me to a party. That's how it all started.
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