There’s a sad and sobering side to the joy and excitement of Semana Santa that makes us realize just how lucky we are to have been born in and to live in Canada.
Holidayers descend from a one ton moving truck or a farm truck with their bundles of pillows, and blankets, and clothing to camp in the dirt of an empty lot.
Little boys string a hammock under the trailer of a semi in which to sleep.
Bus drivers sleep in the cargo holds of their buses and set upa little plastic tables in the rubble by the roadside to prepare their meals.
Unfinished buildings become shelter for many.
And perhaps saddest of all, on your early morning run you will see the musicians who walk the beach playing for tips, sleeping on the sidewalk by their bus with their instruments wedged between them.
And no, I don’t have any pictures. To take some would have been too much of an invasion.