We are getting in some kind of a rhythm here. we have a permission to visit almost every day, we spend the afternoon shopping for Bradley, and in the evening we cook fabulous meals and crash.
Yesterday his shopping list was: a few packs of cigars for someone he woed a favor to, 2 pizzas as a treat to a few americans imprisoned there and a grammar book for spanish. The day before he needed loads of paper and pens...
San Jose is an ugly flithy noisy city. I love it! in all the times ie been here i haven understood the lay out, and we get lost every sngle time we step out the door. sometimes we find the mercado cerrado, the closed market, where we amble for hours looking at herbs toys spices fish meat candles prayer objects straw dolls... other times we fall on the post office and hurriedly mail a few cards.
The hotel is fobackpackers from all over the world. don let the name fool you, there is a big kitchen a swimming pool, an enormous television and a fabulous garden, the dorms are clean and so is the pool.
the ride to the jail on the other hand is hellish. Takes an hour in this greasy smelly bus, in the incredible traffic of the city, and the driver once out of the city makes up for lost time by speeding up these narrow paths relying on his horn to warn oncoming traffic. Linda is plunged in a book the whole time (Angela`s ashes at this moment) but i stare outside and think of all the things i should have done and should have said to the people i love... and all of a sudden we are THERE and daddy is standing at the gate with an expression of hope despair and pride that once again we made it!
kiss to all
Love to all
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