#11 - "Dolor De La Oreja"
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Instructions: 1. Find the blog entry that matches your postcard´s title. 2. Click on the "Comments" link beneath that entry. 3. In the form of a comment, type in (verbatim, please) the entire postcard I sent you. The more of you that follow these instructions (everyone, I hope), the more complete this journal becomes. Please take five minutes and add your entry. Trust me, the overall read will be some Moby Dick meets Hamlet-type shit. Thanks heaps, Dan
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As my plane touched down in Quinto, Ecuador, fear pulsed heavily through my veins. I was no longer traveling with friends. My Spanish was negligible, and I know next to nothing about the country I had just arrived in. What the hell was I doing here?
I took a scary taxi ride downtown and checking into my hotel room. The room stunk like a pig's fart. I seriously considered buying nose plugs at the local pharmacia. To escape the stench, I took a walk though my new neighborhood. The smog was epic. No one looked approachable. Never before had a foreign land felt so foreign.
As I wandered about, most in both daze and haze, I noticed an unkempt eccentric approach a well-dressed business man from the rear. Just when it looked like he was preparing to tap the man's shoulder, he wound up his finger and landed a massive ear-flick instead.
The surprised businessman yelped in pain and the eccentric took off. I doubled over in fits of laughter, tears of joy streaming from my eyes. At last, a small glimpse of why I was here.
oh yeah, the postcard I received had a photo of a gnarled wart-hog in a patch of grass with a monkey riding on it's back. The caption read, "Oriente". I wonder if the "monkey on your back" was part of the bigger story or if Dan just thought it was funny. Either way, it worked.
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