Letters from camp #3

[Ed. Note: Transcribed by a friend in the US, from my hand-written letter .]

The last line reads “I work in the woods, the only Gringo on a logging and milling crew. Carlos…”

[Ed. Note: While Carolina called me “Grampa”, I didn’t feel old enough to be a grampa, so I responded by calling her “niece”. It didn’t work. I remained “Grampa”. Theoretically, I was old enough to be a grampa, but I wasn’t a dad yet, though I was a mom – different story – so was “Gramma” to a couple of kids in the US.]