Glance over the edge,
Sitting a top a giraffe,
Walking a tight rope.
Pulling back up to my abuelos house, I was almost exhausted from the trip from just sheer enjoyment. I needed to get a good night sleep for the days to come. My abuelas inner racecar driver emerged as we weaved from one lane to the next. One hand on the wheel and one hand out the window, yelling curse words in Spanish to everyone who passed. I eagerly sat in back waiting for what was in store inside the city. I tried to dream the night before about I what I thought awaited me in the city. I vividly remember dreaming of running into the president of Ecuador. He took me to a palace that looked identical to