The Road to Chaisa is paved with good intentions

Paper, plastic, metal, maggots, human waste. You can smell it long before you can see it, but no matter what direction you look, its all you see. To get across the ravine, there is a small bridge made of mismatched logs, covered by a flimsy sheet of jagged sheet metal that is contorted and rusted thin. A Tetanus shot waiting to happen. In the middle of the city is a one room church with a dirt floor, a dozen or so long wooden benches for pews, and missing doors and windows that eventually keep the smell out but always let the hot sun in. Welcome to Chaisa.

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