Everyone loaded their own plates from the spread on the kitchen table. There was saffron rice, black beans, yucca cooked with garlic, and wonderful fiery, transparent sauce, and a powdered combination of banana and pappers to sprinke over it all. I settled on a couch in a sort of parlor near the front door, the only area with at least a couple of free seats. It was a darkly-painted little room with a beautiful sofa in purple crushed velvet, tucked into one of the window alcoves. A huge surfboard leaned against the wall in one corner. At one point, I got up and located my purse. I feared it blending so completely in with the brown walls and drk wooden furniture that I’d have a hard time finding it when we were ready to leave. It was night now, and in the window nearby I could see only a large bush, covered with white bell-like flowers, rocking gently in the wind.