Welcome to the Wild West

Early Saturday morning I was jolted awake by the grating noise of the doorbell. I groped for the alarm to find out what time it was. It took forever to find. It was 6 AM. “Who would be ringing my doorbell now? Who would be ringing my doorbell at all?” And it buzzed again – louder and longer and it wouldn’t go away.

I rolled out of bed, threw on some pants, and stumbled to the living room. As I slid open the window, there was no one there. “Stupid pranksters. Not funny.” But I glanced down the road and saw two boys (Marcio and Rodrigo) we had met the other night on our way home. At least, I think it was them. I couldn’t be sure, as they were riding away very quickly on their horse!

I flopped back into bed with a smile on my face. I love it that they stopped by to visit and say hi, even if they were in a hurry. I love it that I live in a city of many millions, and yet I still see people riding horses around on a regular basis. If you ever get the chance, you really should move into a favela. I highly recommend it. Just make sure and watch out for rustlers and horse thieves. Oh, and also the Mormons, who came by an hour or two later and woke me up again… No rest for the weary…

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