I wish it was Christmas all year long. I am not really interested into receiving gifts, when I look at my selves loaded with unused objects and useless thingamajigs, and after having lived four years in Peru where I learned to live simply, I am telling to myself “menos es más” (less is more). I wish it was Christmas all
Flop, flop, flop. My rubber boots are sinking into the heavy and sticky mud. I am walking in a minefield, chased after by an army of mosquitoes buzzing in an unbearable way close to my ears. For the third time in less than half an hour, I splash myself with an anti-mosquito repellent recommended for the tropics zones. It appears
The bus is speeding along the road that crosses the Andes Mountains; little by little the scenery is changing as we travel along. Suddenly my eyes are waking up, aroused by bright green strokes that contrast sharply with the grey, brown, and straw-colored shades of the pampa. We enter into the kingdom of green luxuriance, where chlorophyll rules, and life
