Quince de Julio

Up at 6am to begin our journey home. Es muy difficil viajar por los domingos porque no hay muchos autobuses, entonces viajabamos todo el dia. Because we chose Sunday to travel (buses run less frequently), it took us all day to get home.



Another rainy day; we load on the boat and say goodbye to the island.


In Rivas, a major bus intersection, we encounter this kid:

He has the strangest obsession with poking as many people as possible.

I think it may be a distraction for him, maybe from his hunger, or some insanities in his head. He may even do it to satisfy his need for human contact. He is quick, but feels no need to be stealthy and will often stand right beside his victim and tap away. He usually goes for the head.

Although it is clearly not his goal, the poking could make quite and interesting social experiment. Watching the way each person reacts to this unexpected intrusion into personal space is admittedly fun to observe. Some are embarrassed, some laugh, some look annoyed, while others become infuriated and poke him back. Some even punch him.

While we sat on our steamy bus (we actually got a seat this time!) waiting for it to leave, we watched the Poker out the window for 30 minutes. Several times, a few young kids would climb inside the bus and make their way down the middle aisle in order to sell bottled waters and cokes.

Kids at work, man. They’re everywhere here. In the United States kids won’t even get hired until they’re 14 or more. While here, and in many other countries, kids are working as soon as they can walk and talk. You can’t quite call it child labor, because when you’re fighting poverty everyone has to pitch in, but still – they’re kids.

This is Rojalia and she doesn’t seem to mind too much. She gave me a seashell.