on the way to la plata

The train was a metal box with metal seats with tiny windows-names carved into the paint. Only if they removed the seats could it be simpler, but it got us to La Plata. While we were still close to Buenos Aires vendors walked the aisle selling pens, phone cards, superpanchos (hot dogs), musica romantica on shoulder held boom boxes; when the shanties appeared outside the downtrodden walked the aisles asking for money because they had cancer or too many children and no work; when there was nothing out the window no one walked the aisle and we were at peace with the locomotion. When the tall grass and broken down cars arrived outside of the window, I thought someone might board the train and rob us. A great train heist without horses or bandanas or dust- alone in that tin box they would just walk right in and point and we with no cushions to crawl under...

Near Buenos Aires Leo played.