Claudia (18 months) prepares to play carnevales
Sophia and I take a walk along the old train tracks
Haircuts!
The twins and their big sister / Mid-haircut
Karencita and Fra
Angel
And here are some more...
Every day, when I walk to the local store in Habitat, owned by my good friend Guillermo, our dogs follow me. I walk down the red, dusty streets with these big, panting, identical dogs, and they lick my hands and bark away trouble.
Twice a week, I sleep on the kitchen table in the kids' house; there are no extra beds anymore. The window stays open and the dogs bark and the kids cry and the bathroom light has to stay on, but I sleep like a baby.
Three nights ago, we had a lunar eclipse, and, for the first time in ages, the sky was clear. Mario and I sang U2 and Pino Daniele to the moon, until the disappearing act itself, at which point I joined the kids and the dogs in howling.
Rita had a pain in her back. Nothing would make it go away. Señora Eva the curandera gave me a plant and told me to touch it many times to Rita's back. Only minutes and screams later did I realize: I was beating my roommate with stinging nettles.
(p.s. It worked.)
Ronald (age 5) and I play a game before bed in which we improvise songs about each other.
Most of mine go like this:
"Ronaldcito se ha cepillado los dientes
va a ir a la cama
a dormir
y a soñar."
Ronaldcito brushed his teeth; he's gonna go to bed, to sleep and to dream.
Most of his go like this:
"Rebecca estaba caminando
con su monito
por eso
se ha caido
en un hueco.
Rebecca estaba llorando
por sus tiros
en la calle
habia un hueco
por eso
se ha caido allí."
Rebecca was walking with her little monkey, and so she fell in a hole. Rebecca was crying for her marbles; in the street there was a hole and so she fell in it.
Reporting back from English class: Ignacio told my mother to touch her butt on the telephone. Ernesto can say that "she is skinny but she has big breasts." I am oh so employable.
My new nickname (this one's for you, Gaby): Akasiqi, meaning "Smelly Butt" in Quechua. Fidel gave it to me. As yet, my comeback is nothing more than Siqisiqi (Butt butt), though I could say "Chakrasiqi" (Dried meat butt).
After weeks of carnevales, a full month of dodging water balloons and super soakers and small children with large buckets in the streets, we had a 4-day drought. Our personal supply helped us a little, but the main source of water in Pumawanka ran dry. All of a sudden, the same buckets we had previously used to douse each other became our only hope, our paranoia, our obession, as we regressed from the luxury of waste into fullblown conservation.
And that's the latest from the land of starving people with televisions. I am digesting far more than my lunch; an analysis is forthcoming.
Love to all.
