The boy who disappeared


For more than a year I've been buying a newspaper from a small boy who occupies a traffic island at a busy intersection. Like many of MedellĂ­n's street youngsters he's emaciated and of indeterminate age with a wild look in his eyes. For the last two weeks he had disappeared.

Today he was back and told me his story. He´d been in the city centre, was attacked and knifed. As a packed bus pulled up beside us, he zipped down his top and showed me the slash marks and stitches. The El Colombiano I bought said an extra 1300 police have been employed: Violence is escalating.

Everyday my eyes are compulsively drawn upwards. The Andean cloud formations couldn't be repeated by special effects people: they wow your sensations, rejig your mind, and, oh my God - they´re always changing.

It's been reported that 70 people have recently been murdered in our area of the city. Yet just above this scene "the heavens declare the glory of God": Oh my brothers - look up to the true world.

Photo: Look up! Look up!

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