It was an easier light, full of dazzling white, yellow, and
orange butterflies. At the Rio, we saw three eagles—
different from the ones in the garden. One was being

Pestered by fish. Americo had seen another eagle yesterday
hassled by smaller birds. After a meal of chard soup,
curried potatoes and noodles, we took solar showers.

The fiesta in the courtyard was a profoundly mixed
experience. We had been instructed to prepare gifts
Americo was to give out. Instead after the music

Of a flute, a drum, and an accordion in which Geoff
improvised with the didgeridoo. Then we had to
distribute the gifts—some drawings and crayons.

The community strongly divided along the lives
of men and boys on one side and mothers, babies,
and girls on the other. We were to hand out

The clothes, etc. to the mothers only. Finally, we were
told to give some things to the line of men and boys
who clearly resented the preferential treatment given

To their mothers. I had a hard time feeling good about
distributing pencils, soap, nuts, and so forth. Americo
brought out a box of breads in the shape of babies,

Which nearly caused a riot. I felt terrible—the hunger
was so vivid in the eyes of the children. I bought
a poncho from a woman with a most beautiful child.