For a long time we watched Lolo talk to a group of brown-uniformed soldiers. The soldiers had guns in their holsters, but they appeared to be in a jovial mood, laughing at something that Lolo had said. When Lolo finally joined us, my mother asked if the soldiers needed to check through our bags. “Don’t worry … that’s been all taken care of,” Lolo said, climbing into the driver’s seat. “Those are friends of mine.”
