I awoke last week to a facebook update from Angie: Mata is underwater. Mata is incomunicado. My reply: come mierda. Eat shit. Sort of the Spanish equivalent of the f-bomb. For Mata los Indios and other bateyes, a flood, even for a short time, can be devastating. It means the truck with potable water cannot … Continue reading
The bog almost looks like a peaceful lake. Then I notice all the trash and remember that the bottom, only six inches or so from the surface, is covered in pig refuse. It feels like home. It feels like where we are supposed to be. I don’t search for bugs as I walk gingerly in … Continue reading
