As Julio spoke animatedly to Néstor, I tried to get a head count.
"How did you get here?" Néstor asked Julio.
"We are in danger. We need to get the f**k out of here." I didn't acquire Néstor from the local missionary society.
Néstor's eyes grew wide: "He says 15,000 pesos per day, per occupant." He looked directly at me.
Néstor chuckled: "You know those vendors who are always annoying you on our streets?" His eyebrows were raised in a bemused look.
"These people think we are armed." Néstor looked anxious.
As we drove away, Néstor pointed: "See that bar? Police raided it last week. Child prostitution. Little boys and little girls. People sell them for food."
https://spectator.org/border-crisis-socialism-venezuela-colombia/
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