Life seemed simpler in San Francisco; simpler, and yet harder, too. Every morning, my grandparents got up between 5 and 6am. We didn't sleep in much later, because of the roosters. My dad went out with my grandpa to milk the cows while my mom and I waited for my cousin. Then we walked. We strolled through the town, into the fields, and met more family for pajaretes--warm, frothy milk (straight from the cow) with powdered chocolate and a shot of alcohol. 'Twas a fun way to start the day in a good mood ;).
always spicy and savory: tortillas, beans, eggs and/or meat. It was all so, so satisfying with coffee and fresh orange juice. Then, we alternated visiting neighbors (family) with exploring.
TA-ed in Paris, I haven't had a job with long, physical hours... ever, really. I've only taken care of myself. And so, gosh, I couldn't have felt more privileged to be there; to be reminded how much community matters, no matter our ambition.