My head bangs against the
metal as we swerve to miss the potholes in the road to only hit smaller ones. It is a
feeling that I am all too familiar with. The sun is hitting my arm like the
feeling of laying on asphalt on a warm summer day; a sad reminder of what is to
come in hot season. When we stop to let a passenger out, the windows quickly
fill with women and children selling water, juice, peanuts, cashews, the fruit
of the season or phone credit. 12 hours. In my brain it is a long time to stare
outside a window but in reality it goes by relatively...
