Somehow my father’s old analog watch knows it’s in Central America. It says SAB 19, and it’s right: it is sí¡bado. Last night I packed my small backpack with a few clothes and a sheaf of papers from the travel agent, ready for my trip north. I woke myself up at 3:00 a.m. for the shuttle to the teeny regional airport in Guatemala City. There, the room filled mostly with Americans with whom, as it […]
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