Reading: Diarios de Motocicleta by Ernesto “Che” Guevara
So for months here my host family has been asking me if I’ve ever tried zorro, which in Spanish means fox. Being as fox is not commonly consumed in the States, I can only tell them no, and shutter a bit when they start raving about how great what I envision as the cute, little, wild, red cousin of a dog tastes. However, as this conversation has come up several times, I had started to think that perhaps the Ecuadorian zorro is not exactly the same as a North American fox.
This hunch was confirmed this last week when we were heading in the Parroquia and there was a dead opossum on the side of the road. When I asked my host mom what the name of that animal was, she looked back and said zorro as if we had been over this several times. After asking several more people about this dead animal in this particular spot, I think I’ve fully confirmed that when people here say zorro they’re actually talking about opossums.
For some reason, this makes me feel a little better about my invitations to try eating this. I was having a really hard time wrapping my head around eating the cute little creature from The Fox and the Hound. I’m not sure why, but I think I can handle the thought of eating an unintelligent opossum – I’m picturing the character Kylie Opossum from The Fantastic Mr. Fox.
That being said, I find it extremely humorous that when you say Zorro to most Americans, we think of the romanticized masked rider on his black steed. The idea that his name would mean fox seems very fitting. The irony, however, that Ecuadorians think he’s named after a nocturnal thieving rodent is beyond words.
On a side note: I finally got a subscription to the Economist, since I’ve been pining for legit news. Denali also caught a mouse this morning and instead of playing with it in my house, she took it outside to play with instead. And the very American grocery store in Milagro has legit greek yorgut. The little things here make all the difference.
So for months here my host family has been asking me if I’ve ever tried zorro, which in Spanish means fox. Being as fox is not commonly consumed in the States, I can only tell them no, and shutter a bit when they start raving about how great what I envision as the cute, little, wild, red cousin of a dog tastes. However, as this conversation has come up several times, I had started to think that perhaps the Ecuadorian zorro is not exactly the same as a North American fox.
This hunch was confirmed this last week when we were heading in the Parroquia and there was a dead opossum on the side of the road. When I asked my host mom what the name of that animal was, she looked back and said zorro as if we had been over this several times. After asking several more people about this dead animal in this particular spot, I think I’ve fully confirmed that when people here say zorro they’re actually talking about opossums.
For some reason, this makes me feel a little better about my invitations to try eating this. I was having a really hard time wrapping my head around eating the cute little creature from The Fox and the Hound. I’m not sure why, but I think I can handle the thought of eating an unintelligent opossum – I’m picturing the character Kylie Opossum from The Fantastic Mr. Fox.
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| Denali playing in the cacao trees |
On a side note: I finally got a subscription to the Economist, since I’ve been pining for legit news. Denali also caught a mouse this morning and instead of playing with it in my house, she took it outside to play with instead. And the very American grocery store in Milagro has legit greek yorgut. The little things here make all the difference.
A. I would die for some Greek yogurt right now.
ReplyDeleteB. In Culaguango, Zorro means Skunk, which does not sound very appetizing to me.
Zorro means opossum here too. Or possibly weasel.
ReplyDeleteI'm glad that you were all proper and called it an opossum. And let us know when you try that "nocturnal thieving rodent."
ReplyDelete