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Today we caught our flight to Sugapa. It was like taking a step back in time. A hill village, Sugapa is nearly impossible to try and describe. I won't be able to paint the picture I want, but on arrival 100 people turned out to greet us. These people have only seen westerners a few times. Nobody is over 5'8" and all are dressed in rags, probably the same ones they've used for years. The kids all have swollen bellies from malnutrition and parasites and noses dripping with snot and infection. Flies swarm on every open sore and every foot is bare. Mud caked onto their feet, feet with skin like leather. Then the traditional people. Nearly everyone is wearing beads, armbands, and woven headdresses. There are a lot of guys running around naked except for penis gourds. The grins that are flashed reveal teeth blackened from smoking. Bows, arrows, and machetes bristle in the crowds around us. Arriving at our house, we can finally relax. It's hard to tell who likes you and who might be angry with you. It's a little scary. I slept the rest of the day, had rice dinner, and bed.
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