In the garden, Raphael is planting two rows oflettuce, singing with the radio as he works. They grow a variety of vegetables and herbs, which Francisca sells at the market three times a week, their only regular source of income. The last rays of the sun illuminate the different green hues of the various fruit trees in the valley. Waves of rhythmic music. Boat out of the house. “When there’s music, it doesn’t feel like you’re working,” says Raphael, pouring himself a small glass of rum, which he places on the side of the balcony. He seems a happy man. “To have my own land, my own house, no debts, and no boss, that was my dream. To be free.”

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