At first I wanted to give him a name, but then I decided against this in light of the possibility of eating him.
You see, lunch today has been living under the couch for a couple of days now.
It started when the pastor went out and bought a favorite meal of his: fresh, local iguana. Iguanas, unfortunately, are like lobsters, and are to be kept alive until the minute you decide to feast on them.
Well this wouldn’t be such an issue, really….IF the iguana was contained in one way or another up until said feast. But this little rascal was particularly determined to escape his fate, and initiated “mission: escape becoming lunch to the scary gringos” on the car ride home.
He broke free of his bondage and scrambled over to the driver’s side of the car, up under the steering wheel, and buried his upper body inside the dashboard. Now, we were not with the pastor at this point so I’m not sure what this scene really looked like exactly…but can you imagine if a 2 foot long iguana untied himself and came flying into your lap with his long, snakey tail a-flying, and went clawing down your leg and up under your dashboard while you were trying to drive? I am pretty sure if it were me there would be a 14 car pile-up and one smug iguana wandering the countryside….but they do all sorts of crazy stuff while driving here, so who knows.
Once arriving home, the pastor figured the goofy white Americans would probably get a kick out of this “iguana loco” excitement, so we all ran outside to watch the pastors son pry the iguana out of the dashboard. Twenty minutes later he was yanked free, brilliantly green and desperately trying to claw back into his hiding spot. We did a bit of laughing and picture taking, and figured he would be properly imprisoned once inside to await his execution.
No such luck.
He was flung (rather haphazardly, if you ask me, and I was starting to feel sorry for the poor guy) on the floor in the corner of the living room to hang out until the pastor had a hankerin’ for some iguana. The iguana, which was still very much alive and determined to keep it that way, was evidently freed from his bondage (i.e., hands half-tied with some string) by the pastors daughter at some point in the night, and he promptly found respite under the couch.
We woke up the next morning to find that the iguana had disappeared from the corner of the living room to who-knows-where, and we spent the next day or so wondering where and when he was going to nip our ankles….or perhaps bite off a finger, as they apparently are capable of.
Luckily, the reptile was now been killed and is awaiting marination (I suppose?) by Rosa, the housekeeper. You have to admit though…its not every day you can find the next meal peering out at you from under the couch.
