C. Martins comes over to serve our table in a café in San Diego, California. I met Cláudia in Brazil four years ago, and I tell my friends about the life she leads in the United States, getting only three hours sleep a day, working at the café until late at night and then as a baby-sitter during the whole day.
“I don’t know how she can stand it,” someone says.
“There is a Buddhist tale about a turtle,” says an Argentinian at our table. “The turtle is moving through a swamp, covered in mud, when it passes in front of a temple. There it sees a turtle shell, all covered in gold and precious stones.
“I don’t envy you, old friend,” thought the turtle. “You’re covered in jewels, but I’m doing what I want to.”
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