I left behind in Guatemala, starting around 5 am.
The rain accompanied us, flash memory, which bring me back the image of man riding tight in his poncho. Color of copper at first light on the mountain.
crowds of children with strips of wood on the head by the roadside. The rainbow in the mountains. Tin sheds and a lot of poverty '. Too much.
last evening and 'was in the company of a boy of 31 years, he and his family with no more' home 'cause burned in the morning. The hiring of a pick up and bring in a church, a bit 'of begging that the priests here do not deny anyone.
I feel lost, I think back to that time when I carry a 'to buy powdered milk for her son, she would not offend me gave me an idea to be looking only for money.
I'm shivering and I feel a lump rise in my throat. Come down 'is good for the soul.
Pieces of a distant world that meeting after years, I feel good and I'm sick at the same time. Too many kids who ask you to clean up the shoes, so many girls with colored bracelets that try to convince you of how you can not help it.
And look at you as if you come from a world distant. Unattainable.
Adios Guatemala, I salute andnot idea if I ever returns' here. I saw Livingstone, Garifuna those who still live there. And 'they also changed a lot' and the memories fade when comparing what there 'now with what I remember. Better to let the dream of the past. The thing that is 'now and' worse. For everyone.
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