My host brother, aka La Comadre #1, is Cristian. He is 14 years old and you can find him in a lot of the pictures that I've posted in the past. Yes, we hang out a lot. He is probably my best friend here. Why? He shares food with me and I help him with his homework. We put our arms around each others' shoulders as we walk down the dirt path to school. He picks up his dogs and dances different Latin dances with them. He tells me all the good gossip. He is the first to know. People open up to him. Sometimes his mom will send him on some errand and he will take twice as long just because, along the way, he must have found someone to talk to. He's not your regular 14 year old boy, thinking about girls, videogames and soccer. He kinda sucks at soccer actually. He is my comadre. I am his. I am Comadre #2 and his mom is Comadre #3. Because we all snitch to each other, about countless things. Deaths of cows, husbands' cheating on wives, whose pregnant, who bought a new car. Yeah, you know, the really exciting things. TMZ worthy. Perez Hilton worthy.
In true fashion, today Comadre #1 comes down the stairs and knocks on my door to lay down some of his finest material. The neighbor's daughter had been held hostage with two other men, two houses down. Wtf...It's actually not a house, but a bodega where they store all kinds of mercaderia (food stuffs, I'm assuming) and some men came in and tied them up and put guns to their heads until they got all the money they wanted out of them. For 3 hours.
My comadre has always been scared of the dark. We bond over that but since I'm the adult, I try to calm him down. I tell him to repeat "todo lo puedo en Cristo, que el me fortalece." Sound familiar? And he does. And it makes me feel better. But seriously, we have more to be afraid of now. It keeps getting closer and closer to home. Todo lo puedo en Cristo que El me fortalace.