Aug. 3rd, 2018

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I downloaded the rest of my trip pictures yesterday. I had about 1500 of them, for about the final five or six days of the trip. Among my favorites were a series I did of one of the old village elders that we visited on our last day in the village. I remember him from the ceremony the village did for us after we got married. I have a picture from back then, but can't find it.

He had a big stroke about 3 years ago, and came home to die, but didn't. His daughter cares for him at home. He can't walk and can't talk, but looks quite healthy otherwise. Mostly he sleeps, on a bamboo mat on the floor.

elder1

Mostly he looked lost in the fog, but every once in a while I would catch a glimpse of focused concentration, or a slight smile of something remembered, perhaps.

elder2

The village is an interesting place. I would guess there are about 200 people who live there, which means everyone knows everyone. I am known by association to Malida, who is known as the daughter of her father, who was very well liked, and would likely be one of the village elders now had he not died young.

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