Combi / Cevicheria "Alfredo de Muele"

(just a sample image from google)

I took my first ride in a combi Friday. The minivans are everywhere, rolling up and down the streets. A barker stands in the doorway hollering out their destination, but a couple had passed by before I even realized they had been calling my destination. Hop on and get ready for a ride. The driver clearly believes in speed, darting in and out of lanes of traffic...but they also believe in no empty seats, so there is plenty of jerky swerving and potholes as both speed and passengers are pursued. My driver, for some reason, drove with a rubber mallet in his hand. It appeared that he used it to bang the stick shift into gear. My ride was 20 cents, for which price one needs to be ready to smashed in against other passengers. After a couple stops, a lady was smashed next to me and I realized it actually makes the ride easier being pinned together rather than a loose marble in a can.

My destination was my 4th (5th?) failure to get a cel phone. At least this time my Spanish was sufficient enough to figure out exactly what documents I am lacking.

Later, I was in the local fresh market where we have gotten vegetables and meat from the various stalls. It's like an open air market, except that it has a roof and from outside you would just think you are looking at a regular building. Go in, though, and suddenly there's a bustle of vendors and shoppers. Fresh fish comes here daily, and I decided to finally try the little ceviche stand that is adjacent to the fish purveyors. I think the stand is run by someone who has a cevicheria somewhere in town. Anyway, it was time to give it a try.

I arrived at the prime ceviche hour, 1pm, and the stall was surrounded by people 3 rows deep. Up close are those lucky enough to have a stool. Several others stand happily eating their ceviche. Find the lady roaming about, give her $6 for a regular ceviche and an extra 40-cents if you want a cup of very nice chicha, and wait for your number to be called. In the stall, there is a main man who has the big bowl. He dishes out the ceviche until the bowl is empty, then quickly stacks the bowl with the ideal ratio of ingredients: raw fish, lime juice, slivered red onion, minced red chili. There is a guy in the stall who is squeezing limes fast enough that the juice bowl is always ready. A woman backs them up, and ladles up chicha (sweet purple corn drink) from a tub. The ceviche is served stacked high, with choclo (large Andean corn), a slice of sweet potato, and cancha (corn nuts) on the side. I mimiced those around me, using the metal spork to mix the corn nuts into the extra juice. AMAZINGLY FRESH, PLENTIFUL AND TASTY. One guy down the counter finished and immediately ordered another helping. By the time I was finished, at 1:30, business was starting to ebb. Limeños do not normally eat ceviche much past 2pm because they like their fish fresh.

Here's a top-down view I made with Carter's crayons: