Inside

There is water all inside of me. Like I could cry any minute, but also like I could explode and end up washed straight away into the gutter with the plastic and the rest of the garbage. I´m a walking tidal wave. I am trying to carry myself well, keep every one´s spirits up, but with every step, a little water spills over the side.

I thought I understood poverty. I thought of myself as poor, with Visa debt, student loans, and such. But it´s bullshit. I don´t carry my baby to the meridian of the road. I don´t stand with my three year old on the yellow line and hold her up to every passing car. I don´t try to rip car doors open to crawl inside. I wouldn´t kill to eat, kill for fear, kill for a job, kill to be anywhere else.

To see the little kids, the age of my own daughter standing in the road while cars whiz by, is no longer freaking me out. If that happened in Canada, someone would call the cops. Here, she is selling gum, or just begging. I´ve stopped worrying that she will be hit. I don´t look that closely, because I know she´ll be ok. People driving at top speed seem to know that at every intersection, little girls 2 and 3 years old will be standing, perfectly still, waiting.

Today I made jokes in a burger joint, enjoying making my friends laugh, while outside, two kids were passed out near our car. I didn´t stop to wake them up. It´s not safe for me, I cannot call the cops for them. I don´t even speak Spanish, so instead, I make my friends laugh inside the BurgerLoco while they sleep.

At the orphanage, Hector, perhaps the smartest of the orphans, asks me if I will cry when I leave. He tells me through a translator, "Because I´ll cry when you leave... a lot". I tell him yes I will cry for him when I go, I almost start just then, but I keep it inside.

Andrea