The farm

So here's the rest. I can't wait to go back to the farm. Hopefully I can go back. Pipo promised me some quick motorcycle lessons and then I can ride around town to my heart's content. We'll see. That, and I want to eat guama so bad. It's a South American fruit that I've had a craving for the last 14 years. I will not leave until I have a guama.

I have so many thoughts pent up inside me right now. I would love to write more, but I get so lazy about it. It turns out being a short spurt of inane ramblings.
I'm still not done painting this apartment. In a week or to I'll be in Colombia, though. I'm nervous about taking my camera, so there might not be any pictures. Not that anyone really cares, but I like to pretend I have a loyal audience. That just made me laugh. I wonder why I even put this blog up. I hate blogs that aren't very interesting and I doubt I keep anyone enthralled with these pictures. I'm basically masturbating here. Maybe I'm just waiting for the moment a lot of crazy shit happens and so I can tell eveyone about it. I'm going about this all wrong. I think my intentions were to just have a travel diary that people could see and comment on if they felt like it.

Nuff said.

This is Pipo in his banana plantation. His farm is humongous. It shouldn't be hard to figure out his political opinions. He's still a very nice and generous person.

My aunt and I forget her name. She lives with Pipo's mom. She's 22 and a highschool teacher.

I took one of these home with me. We still have most of the bananas. Here they call them cambures. I also brought home a big nasty tick. That flower is huge.

Only a tiny fraction of his banana trees.

Another dog doing his thing. No one telling him what to do.

Making a new water trough for the cows.

One of the farmworkers houses on the property. The little kid lives on a hill with cows and horses and plants all around. not bad

This is the house with the little kid