About Turtles

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Ayampe, Manabi, Ecuador

She kicked a white piece of plastic away from the sea.

DB: What was that?

M: I’m just moving it away from the sea, so it doesn’t go into the water and kill the turtles.

DB: Don’t you think the waves will move up three feet in high tide?

M: I don’t know, we use the metric system. I was just trying to save a turtle’s life, ok?

DB: If you wanted to save the turtles you could have picked up the plastic.

M: Don’t be a dick, ok? I was thinking about picking up the plastic and then I thought that there are no garbages anywhere and we were having such a nice walk so I just kicked it, I don’t know.

DB: So you gave up on the turtles?

M: I just don’t want to carry trash for half the day.

DB: There’s a garbage can right there.

M: I didn’t see that.

DB: You can go back and pick up that plastic and toss it in the garbage. We’ll wait.

M: You could go back and pick it up, too.

DB: I could, but I don’t give a shit about turtles.

M: How could you say that?

DB: At least I’m being honest. You’re saying the same thing, just with your actions.

Juan: We all alike this, no? We want, we want, but don’t do. We want other people do. We talk and walk and kick what we don’t like.

We looked at Juan. He was tall and Colombian and had a moustache that was just long enough that it’s frazzled ends turned upwards when it was windy, towards the sky.

I nodded.
M bit her lip.
I didn’t know he could speak English.