Lost in Translation

Holly and I went out last night because the singles from school offered to watch all of the kids of the married students. We took a taxi down to a little Colombian restaurante in San Jose. Colombian food is excellent! We both had the Ajiaco (a potato and chicken soup), and I had a fig dessert.

On the way back, we had our first bad experience with a taxi. The taxi was in bad shape (loud brakes, smoke-saturated, etc.), but we were just watching the buzz of activity on a Friday night downtown. I started watching his meter (they call them Marias here), and noticed that it was clicking way too fast. We kindly told the driver we wanted out and caught a legitimate taxi. It always pays to be alert here . . . we've seen some pretty good con men.