About November 1988, Chile. 18 years-old, very naive, tagging along with my new-found friend, Mateo. He had a plan to visit de Valle de Elqui, up north. Whilst buying the bus tickets he met and chatted with some folks and we got an invitation to stay with them in Diaguitas.

We stayed for about a week in their pre-Columbian styled, work-in-progress, house. Owned and organized by Miguel(?), his wife and son, it was filled with people that came and – I guess – went, as long as they pitched-in. All gentle and generous folks.

While Mateo and the rest were all busy in the fields – I don’t remember doing anything much – other than reading, taking a few photos and generally enjoying myself in their beautiful company.

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