Occasionally, after a long day at work, several of us would have a little dinner, a bit of pizza, at a tennis club close to the school. It was all so neat and tidy; the clay courts were pristine. However, just beyond the beautifully blue and inviting swimming pool at the same club, was a ghetto of sorts. The ghetto jarred us into the reality of the extreme poverty that exists in Morocco.I can see a little girl heading into the box-like shapes of a house. The mad jumble of materials somehow make a home for a family. As I sit in relative ease in this really hot and humid house in Nicaragua, I am once again struck by the contrast of my living situation and those of others. I have a nice tile floor and wonderful electricity. I have running water and a flush toilet. But, I don't think this little one has these amenities. I'd like to honor her in a piece of art.....I'm thinking.
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