We had a funny oh-yeah-we're-not-in-America moment this afternoon when we went to pick up the kids. When our taxi arrived at the preschool, neither Jason nor I could open our car door to get out because there was a flock of sheep running down the street--right next to our taxi. I would have literally bonked one of them in the head if I had opened my door. We have no idea where they came from or where they were headed, but we had to wait for them to pass before we could go inside and get our kids.
Now, don't get me wrong, it's not that we don't ever see livestock in the streets here. We see carts pulled by donkeys and horses on a daily basis, and we see plenty of sheep, goats, chickens, etc. when we walk or drive past certain areas, but there are still parts of town where we don't expect to see farm animals. This was one of those areas, so the little woolly guys took us by surprise. Too bad the kids weren't with us when the sheep came by--they would have loved it.
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Ok, so that's really funny. It reminded me of a trip we took to Bolivia a few years ago. Tad couldn't stop talking about the bull that he saw in the middle of the median on a main thoroughfare through town.
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