During my third week in ES, I had just finished work and was going home a few minutes early to try to escape the rain. I walked my usual route to the bus station, and discovered a small crowd of people and a police car with officers. There was a man lying on the sidewalk, and police tape all around his body, a crowd of people watching and a police officer nonchalantly taking notes. I had come to realize that this man had died, and the investigation into his death had just begun. I had probably passed by this man earlier in the day, and now a few hours later, he was dead. There was no blood and no sign of a struggle (a least to my eyes). I had draw the possible conclusion that this man could have been one of the drunk men I had passed earlier in the afternoon. I thought it might have been possible that he had a heart attack, but the reality is, I didn’t know.
As plain as day, he was there, flat on his back, and very much not alive. No one seemed to pay too much attention besides the initial moment of their discovery, and I had come to realize that this was just another regular thing that happened quite often here. With a culture that has a memory of war, and the assassinations of their past, why would a random dead man mean more now? As people, and even children have become accustomed to seeing death, why would this scene be more shocking? The fact is, this is a normal part of life, and at least for the next year and a half, it may become part of my reality as well.