Last night after seeing a play at the local “cultural space,” we went to the director’s house for an after-party of sorts. It’s an artist’s house, my roommate and I were reassured, so you don’t need permission to sit anywhere. Make yourselves at home.
“Look at the salamander!” I shouted, pointing at the flicker of orange moving along the kitchen wall. “How do you say salamander?” Some fellow party-goers taught me the word, then made it clear that the salamander was no big deal. What would really surprise me were the tatus in the backyard. The what? Gestures followed. “You know, tatus, this size (hands spread), kind of round… come see.”
They lead me out to the spacious back patio, adorned with painted birdcages. Two armadillos scurried between the heavy wooden benches and tables. Their names were Cristal and Daniel.