(Sid posting . . . .)
Couldn’t help but love the kids… even the little boys in the street who would say a few words we didn’t understand (we’re pretty sure their friends dared them to call us gringos).
Street soccer, every day, every night, rain or shine. This match broke out after a thunderstorm rolled through. This is in front of the hotel. It was not unusual for the stray ball to go inside that house. The players would just run in, say hi to the owners, and come back out with the ball.
Church at the old facility we were replacing. Dirt floor, wooden tables, terribly hard seats. At this moment we were actually waiting for a chicken soup meal. They told us they were running a little late because it took a little longer than usual to catch the chickens.
When we finally got that chicken soup, it was good.