It's official: I'm going to Minnesota in less than two weeks! I'll spend around a fortnight (what a tragically neglected word) there spending time with family, catching up with friends and enjoying the legendary Minnesota State Fair.
This last activity is not nearly as trivial as it sounds. Any event involving fattest pig contests, a potato-sack slide, sculptures of beauty queens carved in butter, and virtually every edible thing in existence on a stick is worthy of my utmost respect. When I was little, I got lost in the Fair's haunted house, and it didn't even come close to souring the experience for me. No summer is truly complete without a healthy pound or two of cheese curds, mini donuts and Sweet Martha's cookies, not to mention a photo atop the burliest John Deere tractor you can find.
Hence, most of my recent summers have been, well, incomplete. College, Chile and Ecuador have kept me from making the pilgrimage to this deep-fried extravaganza, which means that this year's visit is shaping up to be especially greasy.
The Fair is only one of the many reasons why when Chileans ask me if I miss the States, I respond that I miss one.