Panama, 1994, The Jungle (Memoir Magazine)
From Memoir:
“Panama, 1994
There was only one answer to the question: Would you like a second helping of iguana? On our last night in Panama, I found myself with a beer in hand, slapping mosquitoes at my ankles, and watching as our hosts cooked Iguana on a stick over the bonfire. Helena, the wife, had prepared iguana two ways for us, and in addition to the iguana kebab, she had a large, black sooty pot of stewing iguana which simmered near the fire, tendrils of oily steam curling acridly towards me. Our host Dieter stood over the bonfire, his eyes wild, his toothless mouth open, the rough lined skin on his face sagged in scalloped lines. Dieter was skinny to the point of appearing underfed, and when he moved quickly, he looked like a dancing skeleton who chortled.”