Asuncion

The door were opened by a woman in age of about 70, and straight away she fell into such a strong wordcap, I understood nothing. While still in a trance, she led me into the room. It’s weekend, she said, so do not go out with anything special, and then she watched so I would not leave with my own camera. She was really good at it. Even when I’ve put it in a shawl and into black plastic bags, she knew what was coming. Every time I got stopped at the door and had to listen to a speed talk. But I think she was right, because the city was attended only by a sizable group of homeless Indians camping on the main square in tents made of a garbage bags. Ghost town. And I left with a photograph of my room’s wall plus a memory of taste of Terera – mate on ice.

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