“What is that?” I asked Karen our tour guide, “That person is called a Brocha!” she said. “That’s a crazy job!”
Staring out my bus window in the middle of Guatemala I could hardly comprehend the scene playing out before me. We were moving in traffic at 40 miles an hour or so and off to the side was a bus very different than our travel coach, slowing to near stop on the side of the road. Except, where our nicely appointed tour bus was tall with plush seats, I was staring at a converted school bus, not unlike the ones I used to take to school as a child. This school bus, which might have ferried school children in the U.S. some years ago was now painted over in wild colors.