Dexa Blog

Different Worlds, Right Next Door

People looking at me suspiciously till I say “bon jour”, then they get a big smile and return the gesture. I am a “blanc”. All of the children keep reminding me of this fact, as if I forgot. They touch my arms because they are somehow amazed that my arms have hair on them. When I hold the children they run their hands through my hair. I am the minority. They seem so full of joy, yet have so little. Hunger is no stranger to these people. I go there to help, but where do I  »  Read More

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