Walking home E- calls out from the duka and motions me to wait.
He lives in the second building of the family home, and has lived here
for three years.

"Let us take this car home."

We speed down the main road in the back of a white pickup truck.
We stand holding onto a metal frame while the third unnamed person
sits near the back window. We climb out the truck at the blue and white sign,
across the street from the makeshift cell phone stand, which exists in all its frailty
in front of the town graveyard. We walk home.

"So…you have been here for some time, yes? Do you like it here?
Do you find the conditions…well, are the conditions o.k. for you?
What I mean is…as you can see, life is very, very hard here."