Zorillo

This weekend, for the first time I was able to visit Zorillo, the little village in Mexico that Eunice, my Father-in-Laws soon to be wife used to live.  I don't know if I can accurately describe what it was like.  I don't think photos do Zorillo justice.  You have to see it for yourself. 

The only way I can describe it is to say that it was like being in a Steinbeck novel, think Grapes of Wrath or Cannery Row, where everything is dusty and run down and homes are built with whatever is available.  The poverty is so thick in Zorillo that I felt shame over all the material items we own. There are stray dogs everywhere and weather worn storefronts.  Down a dirt road just past Eunice's mom's home there was the half eaten carcass of a goat  lying in the sun. 

Eunice standing in front of the home she built.

Neighbor kids watching our kids shoot off fireworks.  The homes in the background with triangular roofs are one room houses built by Christian missionaries.