As the truck ground to a halt on Rio's pleasant Rua Bartholomeu Mitre, children looked up from their play. After the workmen had unloaded the dark, moist sand into the street and gone away, the kids swarmed over the sandpile, pelting each other with sand and small pebbles.
By nightfall, the sandpile had taken on fresh interest. Dark, and obscured by the ocean mist, it made a wonderful hazard for cars. A little crowd gathered hopefully to watch the fun; two soldiers on the curb held hands with their girls; some carpenters sat by a small fire and listened while...
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