Sunday 14th On Wednesday I was sitting for hours in the UN building. Thursday, sitting for hours in a Dodge minivan, until Slava and me pulled over in Nowhere, North Carolina. Friday, I reached Miami. Saturday, before noon, I was in Bogota. And by that night, my dad, my uncle, and me were sitting at a charming seafood restaurant in Santiago, scarfing down Chilean sea bass and flaky eel. The restaurant, Como Agua Para Chocolate, sparkled with cobalt blue walls, and the fountain we sat near splashed water on my feet. There was also a candlelight connected to the bathroom, which would sway back and forth, and radiate loudly whenever the door closed. We waddled to a taxi and requested he return us to our hotel, which was decked out in modern designs. From all this
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