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Before we ate lunch, we drove to the cemetery. Why the cemetery? Because from the cemetery we could walk to an overlook and see the garbage dump from above– it was inside a crater-esque area. For our bus to enter the cemetery, Juan Carlos had to pay as we drove through a gate. We navigated to a spot far back, and he parked the bus. All of us hustled out and followed Andres and Juan Carlos, police officer in front …
Here are some excerpts of impressions from my journal (mostly about things you’ve already read about here) “There’s Jorge–My friend from St. Francis Coll, who sat next to me at the assembly and loved looking at the pics as I them them on my camera. He’s very talented: he played recorder, offered a greeting/welcome to us, and he played drums for another act.” “The generosity: these people live hospitality, abundance, welcoming. The light in eyes–and yet also, in some, the …
Somersaults , music, and hula hoops later, our group of 14 set out into the neighborhood, to visit several homes. Our route led down a narrow lane; accompanied by several children from the Coll, numerous mangy dogs, and our police escort, we followed our Pied Piper, Andres. Most noticeable was the smell– which I had last noticed in Nicaragua– of burning trash. It permeates everything and eventually is unremarkable, but that first walk, I thought, “Oh! I remember this.” Once past the smell, I …
