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Bad news, I'm afraid. My camera got stolen. So you'll all have to make do with inadequate descriptions of beards, haircuts, etc.
I had left the camera in Tucuy Paj (Buenos Aires) when I went to Rosario, because there was more use for it there. Not long ago they told me that it went missing. A short time later, two of the children who come to play in the factory confessed, in tears. They're fucked up kids, with fucked up lives who come to the factory to escape the villa for a little while and play. I know one of them, a boy. I'd never met the girl, who they tell me lives with her crack-dealing brother and prostitutes herself. Hard to get very mad at someone in that situation just because I don't have a camera anymore. What can you do in this situation except cry for a world in which $400 digital cameras and $10 child prostitutes exist side-by-side?
I had left the camera in Tucuy Paj (Buenos Aires) when I went to Rosario, because there was more use for it there. Not long ago they told me that it went missing. A short time later, two of the children who come to play in the factory confessed, in tears. They're fucked up kids, with fucked up lives who come to the factory to escape the villa for a little while and play. I know one of them, a boy. I'd never met the girl, who they tell me lives with her crack-dealing brother and prostitutes herself. Hard to get very mad at someone in that situation just because I don't have a camera anymore. What can you do in this situation except cry for a world in which $400 digital cameras and $10 child prostitutes exist side-by-side?