chapter
6 Pages

Accepting Never-Never Land

The ants remind me of the children and the music here because they, too, come out of the woodwork to flood the streets of Salvador. You can’t utter the only universal word (no!) before another kid has tied a string bracelet around your wrist with an imploring nasal “um real,” and once that colorful string is tied on who can deny them a coin? Not me. When I first arrived I flung my hand away from a skinny girl before she could tie on that bracelet. Unsuccessful in one pursuit she tried another, gleefully insisting to help me find a hostel.