Vive Bolivia siempre
May 6th 2007 The homemade firecrackers exploded over my head for the hundredth time and I covered my mouth with my jacket. An old women with an iron grip grabbed my hand and almost broke my fingers as she dragged me to the ground and covered me with her shawl. She smelled of horse, dirt and beer. When the crackling subsided we poked our heads out and stood up. All around hundreds of people danced to the throb
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