In the fishermen’s camp
Chapter 12. The Atlantic Coast and its Caribbean pirates
Taxco’s Historical Center, Guerrero, Mexico
“Yesterday between my brothers and me, we finished mending the last of the three large fishing nets. With that money I fixed the outboard motor, and now, we’re ready to fish with the boat again, next Monday morning.” On our flight back to León, Grandfather explained that Epifenia took care of her Grandmother and two younger brothers. When she was eight years old, her parents died in an accident. Since then, she’s in charge of the family.
As it happens so naturally when you’re young, we quickly became good friends, though she was a few years older than me. Many years passed until we saw each other in León. By then we were both women and had grown up. Still, that day we talked, laughed and grew fond of each other.
The camp was set on a wide beach with white sand. Sprinkled, here and there, stood the coconut palm trees. All in all, the camp consisted of fifteen houses for fifteen families. We climbed out of the boat and said hello to everyone. Grandfather greeted each by name, joked and caught up with everybody while Epi and I went to help with the food for the feast.
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