cultivating an unusual racism on the streets of Port au Prince
all began in the streets of a friendly port call slums adjoining the fort dimanche.
was a matter of mounting poles with attached shade cloth in order to graze small Negro children without their sun cuocesse Capoccetta lousy. I downloaded
ropes and stakes stakes picks cones and bribes to the principles I set about the job.
a multitude of young and old around the area began its work, in Creole with making sarcastic comments on the efforts of smadonnante subscribed.
then someone proceeded to work in twenty minutes and everything was mounted.
the next day, perky and happy with the work done by the community, I went back to that pleasant place to complete the acchittamento the area.
but the body of a thousand whales (or even cristoddio but fuck it) I found everything disassembled.
thinking about the sweat dripped from my forehead Aryan, smadonnai like a port of Livorno, and I went in search of the local foreman, which the bade that night for fear of robberies had dismantled six poles and 48 square meters of cloth. mortacci her.
then the next morning paro paro redid the job and in the evening I got a call warning me delll'avvenuto demounting by the Committee. I have the vague feeling that they're taking with me by the nose by tomorrow to pick cotton in all plantations.
the landscape of this district is unique.
shacks built from corrugated iron and has evolved in corrugated iron shacks and, ergesi one building, called the school, with a special square now occupied by the tent of medical dispensary.
this square is surrounded by a charming and picturesque stretch of water, is called in the local dialect "marana" effluvia exhaling esaltenti miasmatic that, according to ancient shamans, induce mystical visions.
after these exciting days of grazing dedicomi the mission to Rome to visit them as scottansi, Suden healthy and suffer the Caribbean climate.
who knows if they will reach a live Sunday.
not even brought me from the cards, sti 'gnoranti.
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