This morning a crew is working on the new radiation tower near us. My only observations previously about radiation towers have been that a) they appear overnight, and b) they never go away. In this case, as far as I can tell, nothing has been done for almost three weeks.
About 500 meters from our front door, what looks like it can be only one thing: the base of a cell tower. I don’t like cell towers. I rarely use my cell phone. I have used one so little that I can still feel the numbness around my ear that no doubt you have long since gotten used to.
For the first time in six years, I have phone books. For the entire country, outside of Montevideo, maybe 1.5 million people. (Half the population lives in Montevideo.)
I was returning my shopping cart outside Disco, a most un-Uruguayan thing to do, and a guy with a small pile of phone books asked if I wanted one. Asked my cédula (ID) number, started talking to someone on his cell phone to verify, then hand-wrote my name on a sheet of paper.
First thing, of course: check to see if we’re in it. We’re not. Did we opt out long ago? Wouldn’t surprise me.