It’s called Plaza de Bolivia, a wedge-shaped expanse of green with two fenced playgrounds, a carousel, and plenty of sunbathing city-dwellers. It’s sandwiched in-between a busy train track and Avenida del Libertador, an eight-lane boulevard filled with taxis and buses. The high-rises along the Avenida are a mountain blocking the sun.
And in the middle of it all, I watched my daughters dig holes in the sand. My heart was filled with dread.