Author: Jessica
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Taking Care of Timeless Plants
After an exhausting walk to the end of our street with Camilo in and out of his Flintstones car, we made it to the driveway leading its way to the back of the new café. The green gate was pushed open, creating a welcome invitation for a two year old on an adventure. Camilo propelled… Read more
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The Royal Motorcycles
A typical Lao family pulls out in front of our car. Four people on the motorcycle with a 20 gallon jug of water up front. Dad is driving, the smallest member, maybe two years old, is standing on the vehicle seat sandwiched between dad and his mom behind him. The sister, maybe six years old,… Read more
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A Regretful Trip to the Hospital
A splitting scream shot out from behind me as I hanging one last ornament. Misa had been a witness but no amount of wishing could have made his arms extend any longer in that moment. We wrapped the young child balled up on the floor into our arms and did our best to examine the… Read more
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Trucks, A Boy´s First Interest
Camilo lulls himself to sleep at night by naming his favorite trucks on repeat. In the darkness of a bedroom without windows with his legs and arms spread out making a star, out comes the parade, ¨Dump truck, boom truck, cement truck.¨ At some point the chanting ends, but I imagine his dreams are filled… Read more
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Starving in a New Country
Moving to a new country can make 26 years of life experience feel obsolete. With everything around me foreign, I reverted back to childhood. I depended on others to keep me alive. I was a four month old eating solids for the first time. Only small bits and pieces made it to my mouth as… Read more
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An Elephant Picnic
As we rolled into the gravel parking lot, the lack of other vehicles was not surprising. Undesirable, but not surprising. We crept up to the bit of shade provided by trees and found a handful of university age individuals spread into different groups. Perhaps in the United States or in Mexico where I have the… Read more
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The ¨Fresh¨ Food Market
Only a young child could be excited about going to the market when it is 40 (104 F) degrees out. With our eyes squinting, we stumble from the car up to the blankets draped over the entrance to keep the world inside in darkness. In our 20 meter walk, the sweat already sticks to us… Read more
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An Ode to Brooms
The neighbor´s servant lingers in the street. His hips are holding up oversized jeans with patched holes in the knees. His chest is covered by a graphic tee that holds no meaning to him. His hair falls into his eyes as he examines the concrete path littered with twigs and speckled with white and yellow… Read more
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Not My Language
¨Saturday go football.¨ ¨Okay,¨ I respond hoping that some more information is coming my way. ¨You go?¨ ¨No, I did not go to football on Saturday.¨ I take a guess to see if this is for the past or the future. ¨No, no, you go Saturday.¨ ¨Ohhh, okay, I will go on Saturday.¨ From the… Read more
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My Foreign Extremity
I have a freckled alien arm. While my right arm remains unaffected, my left arm persists to be unrecognizable. Almost two months ago it began, I jumped twenty-ish years of life and took on the freckled forearms of my grandmother after a lifetime of hard labor in the sun. I imagine allowing half of my… Read more