In the trains of Buenos Aires, you can’t ignore life

I am in the end of a train car where there is almost always space to sit on the floor underneath the wide, scratched windows. I imagine the shoes that have been here, smeared with sidewalk dog shit, muddy boots and wet bike tires, all the filth of a city underfoot, filing in and out of this car.┬áBut the floor means no standing on tired … Continue reading In the trains of Buenos Aires, you can’t ignore life