narco sea

  Back in Boca del Rio Sucio, Pedro, the man who took her every day on his tricycle from Puerto Nuevo to Boca del Dirty, an adult, fat man, with all the features of an Afro-descendant but with lighter skin, He told him what was happening at the Finca de la Urbanización Campesina while they were crossing it. "The Peasant Organization fell apart since the band-aids of Liberation Theology were taken out," he said while they were stopped on the road by some cows, who were waiting their turn to milking and have their milk drawn by hand. -When I pass that? - Maxima asked, adjusting her hat and glasses, while a furious swarm of cattle mosquitoes attacked them. - It was around 1985, more or less. In the times of Febres Cordero, the president who persecuted the Alfaro Vive Carajo and all the communists. One day they came to the home of the health promoters when we were in a course, they put us face down on the floor, they were looking everywhere for weapons. They took us outside to in...

Máxima came to Bolívar in search of Bernard's son, who was the rural doctor at that dispensary. The town was surrounded by Don Buche's 200 hectares of shrimp pools. The sub-center that she looked very good, unlike the sad dispensary in which she worked, which was in Tres Vías, in a house that she had businesses on the first floor. and in the second, the place of attention to the affiliated to the Rural Social Security. The rural doctor from the dispensary was on annual leave, so she would be back in a fortnight. She took a boat that took her to the island of Porte, which is in front of her. A gentle and transparent estuary separated them. The jet skis from the Decameron Hotel were now racing through that estuary, which looked huge on the rock. The beach of Portete, were kilometers of palm trees, under which the backpackers had their tents and their bonfires, in front of a huge beach when the tide went out, with a turquoise sea and waves of white foam. On the island, there were ...

Narcomar, 2012 to Chamanga After a wait of half an hour, the bus left El Salto for Chamanga, the last parish before crossing the bridge over the Cojimíes River, which separates the provinces of Manabí and Esmeraldas, which is within the Mache Chindul Reserve. With ballads by Marco Antonio Solis and the bustle of Argentine boys, who felt euphoric to be so far from their country, exploring these green and tropical landscapes of the South American Pacific, the bus moved along a new highway, with almost no traffic. Through the window you could see how the mangroves and shrimp farms appeared and disappeared on the side where she was sitting, as well as the sea, while on the other side the pastures, the zebu or brahaman cattle, rose and fell by rounded and small hills. The story that his father told him came to his memory, that on a day like today in 2005 when in the company of Juan Carlos, a friend of the family, he came to stop the logging, accompanied by policemen and the security cameras...

It   very uncomfortable to travel standing in the corridor of the buses between Atacames and El Salto, there were pushes, to get in and out when arriving at the stops, or from the street vendors, music of crying whales, Mexican narcocorrido, or ballads, which were sung stories of the love misadventures, or the evil deeds of Mexican drug traffickers. A few kilometers from Atacames, the bus climbed the only slope on the way to Muisne, that of Peñón del Suicida and Máxima, seeing from that place a fleet of fishing boats, fishermen's canoes, and the beach of Atacames, he remembered that story that his father She told her as a child about a craftsman who during an epidemic of malaria and typhoid together, in one, now called a syndemic, made a 40 cm Coral Christ, which the Central Bank had ordered her to make for its Museum, but then not I buy. A spiritist healer came to town, who healed with telepathy and who saved his wife in exchange for the image, then thousands of people came t...

Narco sea Atacames Máxima Umiña did not look like an Ecuadorian woman, she was tall, muscular, with black hair and dark eyes, but with very white skin, like the god Diana the hunter in Greek Mythology. At the Esmeraldas bus station she had to make a column behind numerous Argentine boys, who also bought tickets for the bus in which she was traveling. They all had huge backpacks, some their boards surfing, her soccer ball, or a guitar. The destination of those boys was the beach of Mompiche, an inlet that has a mountain on the south side and a huge beach several kilometers to the north, populated with palm trees, with the gentle mouth of a river, which it is possible to cross on foot when the tide it's low. On the bus there was the bustle of Argentines, who felt like masters and masters, sang, commented, laughed and their physical appearance was of gringos or Europeans, but much prettier than they changed their appearance from the skinny women under 30 years of age 70, to the fat pe...