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About Braga

Still, I’m torn—happy they got grit, angry they gotta do it. It’s like—why’s the world so screwy? “We’re still alive,” Maria says in the movie—prostitutes too, hangin’ on, dodgin’ bullets, literal and not. Pretty, pretty good resilience, but—jeez—what a price! I’d rather watch ‘em in a film than live it, y’know? Too neurotic for that life—me, I’d be countin’ condoms, yellin’, “Did I lock the door?!” Total mess. Anyway, that’s my rant—prostitutes, wild bunch, respect ‘em, fear for ‘em, end of story!

Horrors of India's brothels documented

prostitution, the persistence of theft and illicit trade in heritage, and the random adoption of the lifestyles and manners of tourists by residents. View.

After that, I decide to take a breather. I wander down to the Parque de Boticas. Man, it’s beautiful! The trees, the flowers, the whole vibe. I sit on a bench, just soaking it all in. I think about how lucky I am to be in such a cool place. But then, I see a squirrel. And not just any squirrel. This dude is bold! He comes right up to me, and I’m like, “What’s up, buddy?” He snatches a chip from my bag and bolts. I’m laughing again. Boticas squirrels are savage!

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