We were sitting in the paila (pronounced “pie-la”), otherwise known as ‘the bed of the truck’ playing Egyptian Ratscrew and I was the reigning queen.  (They’re all over 15. I don’t need to let anyone win.)  The game came to a sudden halt when we heard a commotion a little ways up the mountain.  A random…

My friend Kelly recently wrote a blog post that resonated with something that I’ve also been kicking around the last few weeks.  She starts the blog by asking whose fault it is that kids are in gangs?  The gang?  The parents? The lack of jobs? The lack of mentoring relationships?  Everyone’s pointing the finger at…

“That kid over there said he used to be in Proniño.”  Sure enough, there was Alfredo*.  I chatted with the boys I had come to see (who all happily live in a home outside Progreso), then crossed the street.  Alfredo.  Pleased to see me, but with a bit of embarrassment seeping out of his smile….

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