A box of lamb’s heads. I snuck a picture, knowing full well I’d be admonished if caught, as the greedy yuraq tourist I became through such an act. (It was located in a shop for religious artifacts… some might say that taking a picture of sacred objects was an act of heresy… or, at the very least, one of measured disrespect. Discretion, therefore, was damned important.) If my luck ran out on the road further south, I’d have a solid clue as to why…
I wandered down the main street catering to locals, looking for a Bolivian SIM card for my phone. I came across a small, darkened shop run by a young woman with an infant child lying behind the counter in a cardboard box filled with blankets. She was kind to me, spending nearly two hours trying to set my phone up with internet access, which never worked, no matter what tactics she tried. Her baby fed from her right breast as she spoke on the phone with tech support.
All the while, her baby kept holding my stare, for several minutes at a time… and smiled.
