It was Saturday morning, so my first stop in Riobamba was the Feria Indígena, a weekly market that draws hundreds of indigenous people from the surrounding mountain communities. I sat down for lunch at one of the long wooden tables that filled an entire side of the market. This was a wild, fun, and chaotic experience, as the tables filled up randomly, strangers sitting elbow to elbow and eating together in a harmony of brotherhood. Spaces emptied up at my table, and then soon filled up again with two different Kichwa families who joined me in a hearty lunch. I didn't understand what they were saying, but we smiled at each other in a universal communication.

The women running the cooking pots were fast and efficient, calling out the dishes they had to offer. Seco de pollo, seco de carne, hornados, empanadas, tortillas. I was in heaven. I ordered a big plate of seco de carne, which came with a couple of tortillas, the small patties of fried mashed potatoes that I had first tried in Quito. They brought the food directly to my table and then one of the women taught me how to say thank you in Kichwa: Yupaychani.