It’s Wednesday afternoon in Nebaj…

and there’s live music (possibly marimba?) blaring from the central parque, about two blocks from my place. I’m sitting here, trying to work from home and trying to interpret what the voice on the microphone is saying. Considering the last time strange things were afoot in the park it was the opposition party threatening a coup against the town mayor, and before that it was the president/ex-military-general-possibly-tied-to-genocide-acts-against-this-region flying in on helicopter to say a few words and hand out giftbaskets of food to a random lucky few…Anyway, such is the background noise of Nebaj for an afternoon of grant-writing.

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