"I could be blogging this," I thought. Then I selfishly kept it to myself for a bit. Sipping a latte- a good latte, much better than starbucks- in a giant ballroom in a palace while typing on the next book.
The palace- murdering bastards or not, megalomaniacs do some really cool architecture. The Presidential Palace- marble and inlay, hammered gold door, murals on ceilings forty feet high and domed. Isher-style optical illusions that aren't illusions because they are done in three dimensions... very, very cool.
Sitting under the billiards pavillion next to the swimming pool. Drinking cold water and thinking, just thinking.
It was beautiful and there is meaning in that. There is meaning and many lessons in every contrast in this land, in history and its consequences, in what is and what could be. Things I can't write here other than to make broad generalizations because each supporting detail is a story and a human, the very specifics that I can't share.
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