Al Campo

Yesterday Dee and I took a bus to a gallery opening in Cienaguita, about six kilometers outside of San Miguel. We caught the bus at the bottom of Canal Street, and it was a good thing we were early because we got a seat. A hard, narrow seat, but a seat all the same. While waiting to depart, we had three different salesmen trying to sell us their wares. Talk about taking advantage of a captive audience. Dee bought a small jar of menthol balm, for her mild headache, for twenty pesos. We declined the ice cream and the other guy, who we had no idea what he was selling. Finally we departed, and headed out into the Campo, the country.

We were on a local bus, and it was full of middle school kids in uniform, going home, and mainly women and children who live in the Campo. We left the main road, and headed off on the dirt track that runs through the country. It is very dusty and dry. These are people who have very little. We passed small brick homes and compounds with dirt yards, and the occaisional wealthier home with gardens and cars out front.

We were a bit anxious, because we weren't exactly sure where to get off. We had directions to get off at the church in Cienaguita, and walk up behind it, but we weren't sure where the chuch was, and we couldn't see out the windows to see what was ahead. We asked the driver where the church was, and he said it was a little ways ahead. Unfortunately we couldn't see, so we missed the stop, and carried on with the driver to the end of the line, which is where we took these pictures. After a ten minute break, we drove back into town, and the driver let us off at the church. Total travel time: seventy-five dry, dusty, gritty minutes.

The gallery was fun and interesting, and we got a ride home with some people we met there. Travel time home by car: fifteen comfortable, air-conditioned minutes.