The Images for the Narrative:
Latin American politics always leaves me feeling overwhelmed about the fact that I am so privileged and that we live in a broken world…so sometimes seeing the big hand finally reaching the the point signaling that class is over, comes as a relief. Until next time, I can leave this political world, forget about imprisoned Peruvians, hungry Hondurans and mestizo Mexicans. Lunch is a meal I always enjoy. It’s my social time, a random time where i meet my friends (with out ever planning it) and hear about how everyone else is doing. So I sit, in the usual international section sipping on my organic chai tea and laugh at Francis, Leila and Maureen cracking stupid jokes again…
The big had has moved again, and now its time another class. I rush out of Dana, grabbing dried mango for later. I think to myself, “what were we supposed to do for class today, ” then I make a dash for the NCAT room.