The air was salty.

Wet and humid. Intoxicated my lungs. My brain. My body cells.

The eternal present greenish leaves of all type of trees and plants.

Made an unforgettable collage in my mind. I can still see it.

The streets I walked barefoot, I still can feel the soil under them.

The tall beach waves briefly drowning me. Pushing me roughly to the

sand. The salty water in my nostrils. My eight year old body

holding the sky and the stars. Skin and bones. And an always hungry

stomach. That satisfied its hunger at nighttime with the most delicious

fish ever eaten. And a sleep that carried me through the night before

going to school next day. That was my life like in Mazatlán.

EO