Even in the driest of deserts where the people are suspicious of your every move, you will find welcoming handshakes where there is money. The little town of Tilcara used to be very small, quiet, and quaint. Whispers telling Tilcara's great weather and native culture spread throughout Argentina and the world. I remember when I was the only white boy in town, but slowly others came and took my spot. When I return I realize that to the natives I'm just one of the outsiders. So sad, but such is life. The moral of the story is: When I'm in Tilcara I'm white. When I'm in Upland I'm Latino. When I'm in Lithuania I'm USA with a dash of eastern European.
1 comentario:
Josheroo,
Could send me a picture of the top of Xixilera? Thanks.
Tu papá
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