Mara's place is a one-room building with just enough room for a counter, a card table with two computers in the back, and a few more tables for sitting. We give Mara a few hours notice to get food, and when we return for dinner, the place is full of local kids playing the Internet, an older American man (later discovered to be "Bicycle Bob"), and Cameron, Mara's two and a half year old son.

Cameron plays with us to the food arrives, and he's exceptionally smart. He sits on my lap and I show him how to use my camera, which he loves. The rest of our trip, when we see Cameron on the street, he cries out "Picture! Picture!"

Thanksgiving dinner is rice, beans, salad, some very starchy bananas, and "turkey". We still haven't figure out what this "turkey" actually is because there actually aren't any turkeys on the island, nor could we find evidence of turkey meat sold in any of the stores. Maybe we're better off not knowing.

Mara's place is a one-room building with just enough room for a counter, a card table with two computers in the back, and a few more tables for sitting. We give Mara a few hours notice to get food, and when we return for dinner, the place is full of local kids playing the Internet, an older American man (later discovered to be "Bicycle Bob"), and Cameron, Mara's two and a half year old son.

Cameron plays with us to the food arrives, and he's exceptionally smart. He sits on my lap and I show him how to use my camera, which he loves. The rest of our trip, when we see Cameron on the street, he cries out "Picture! Picture!"

Thanksgiving dinner is rice, beans, salad, some very starchy bananas, and "turkey". We still haven't figure out what this "turkey" actually is because there actually aren't any turkeys on the island, nor could we find evidence of turkey meat sold in any of the stores. Maybe we're better off not knowing.