We leave the Refugio and head south on a city bus that costs about a dime. It is an apt description. Garbage litters the street and the sweet smell of chocolate from a nearby factory mixes with the odor of urine and feces. Plastic bags from yesterdays or last weeks glue are all over. On one side of one block more than two hundred discarded bags were counted.
Flies are everywhere.
Children live here. On this street. Soon, one by one, a dozen boys ages ten to fifteen gather around us. But the gringo doesn't go away and soon the lure of the cameras is too much. They all want their photograph taken and want to take photographs themselves.