Water Please?
Faviole looks up at me with her big chestnut eyes. “¿Quiere usted un poco de agua?”
I smile sympathetically, “No comprendo . . . lo siento,” while gesturing to tell her that I am sorry, but I don’t understand her.
She laughs, used to this response, and mimes for me to come with her. At this, I follow my new Honduran friend across the field — my pasty-white, 17-year-old legs trying to keep up with her experienced seven-year-old ones.