Just One at a Time

I learn that a “base” is both a geographic location and a group of people – a sort of mix between a gang and a homeless camp. This base hit all five of my senses at once. The sight of 30 children living and sleeping in a park, the smell of sewage being used as both a bath and a washing machine, the taste of air so grimy and dirty it coats your throat, the touch of a boy – 12? maybe 13? – so high he needs your steady arm to stay upright, the sound of traffic driving past seemingly unfazed by it all. This base was only about 30 kids. “Only” because there are an estimated 60,000 kids – children – living on the…