Day 18: Getting Things Done

Finally I woke up from the apartment, no more hotels, not for a while, not for the rest of this trip! There is relief, exuberance, curiosity, excitement, everything positive about being in a place that feels like home. It's bigger than a hotel room, but it's not just the size or the lower expense, but the freedom to roam around, to have a feeling something private, a sanctuary awaits us, and not someone else's business establishment. The apartment is spacious, too spacious; we don't really need so many rooms, but it was the best we could find. It's very sunny, with a balcony looking out a spacious area. There's nor much to say because it is pretty empty. There's nothing here that's weirder or more different than what I've described about different hotels. One exception is the prevalence of windows on the walls that divide the rooms! I guess they allow more light to pass through the rooms? And for some reason, these windows, just like the ones on walls of the apartment facing the outside, also have fixed, metal bars! And each door to each room can be closed from the outside as well as the inside! So the combined use of these outside locks as well as the metal bars on the internal windows means you can really lock someone in a room! I am not sure if that's their intention, but they are certainly a major fire hazard! Speaking of fire hazard, the fuel for the kitchen is propane from a tank we also got last night while out shopping. We haven't figured out how to turn it off yet. But we are excited to be able to make some warm meals on our own for the first time. I haven't cooked for myself in nearly three weeks! Outside our house, directly across the street, is a tiny slum of about four "houses" (really makeshift tents of pieces of tarp and plastic propped up by wooden sticks of various sizes). I see that there is one water outlet, so it's not like they are washing their stuff in the sewers. There apparently is no electricity because last night the source of internal light was clearly fire. It's a strange feeling for me to be living directly across the street from these people, who are probably the servants of the much wealthier occupants of the houses on this side of the street. The strange feeling isn't guilt, maybe pity, maybe excitement to get to know the people for whom are one of the reasons I've come to this hole on earth. Just this morning I saw a mother picking off lice from a girl's head.

waking up to another dreary, hot day in the slums a boy with a future? whatever you can fid to hold the roof wash those lice off