a border somewhere. One asked: 'where you goin' man'? In a most sincere and honest tone, I said 'Ischi man'. And so then they detained me for a couple of hours or so. But that's a story for another time.
The old town looked the same, same old buildings, some new.
Like a broken record, the same old lords. Jesus and Coca-cola have long arrived in town.
Pulis: 'But you were dawdling, under-speeding, slowing down the parade.'
'Excuses excuses' Mr Police said. 'That's no excuse for an ignoramus. Get a move on.'
Did he just call me a moose? - but it’s not really about me.
There was a parade in town.
I was able to take a couple of images which I thought captured the stark innocence and wisdom, and genuine realism and uncertainty of the times.
Ahh but the show must go on. The beauty pageant, the fashion and cosmetics contest. Empowerment? Oh to live in the enlightenment, where reason prevails over bad tradition. I'd take pragmatic young inventors competitions over pointless ms universe contests any day or year.
Right, but how many beauty queens, models and movie stars have improved the lot of many of their kailian? I'd rather these young girls learned medicine or science or organic farming or medicine so they can look after me in my old age. Oooops, so it's all about me after all.
There's no prettier sight than looking back
On a town you left behind.