Home

Wearing an oversized P.E. shirt (from high school), my brother’s shorts, and my father’s rubber tsinelas which was a few sizes bigger than my feet with chopsticks holding my hair in place, I felt absolutely at ease as I walked down the streets. I had no money in my pocket, no cellphone; I wore no jewelry, no make-up or powder and still I felt wonderful. Ah, there’s no place like home.