Our guata, who art inside us,
Hallowed be thy name.
Thy digestion come,
Thy excretion be done,
in Bolivia as it was in Chile.
Consume this, our daily bread,
and forgive us our street food,
as we forgive you for making us poop our pants.
Lead us not into nausea,
but deliver us from gastroenteritis.
For thine is the paristalsis, the microvilli and the chyme,
for ever and ever,