In the garden from Vigo that divides the parallel avenues of Rúa Montero Ríos and Avenida de Beiramar, sitting down, is Mayke. Two Quechua rucksacks surround her. One is hers and the other one belongs to her son Miro. She holds a Mahou can with a hand. She dresses up with printed jacket and hairband, a pink T-Shirt and greyish trousers. Her serene energy is the one that a pilgrim owns just by watching life pass by at a city which is orphan of hours and minutes. She observes, smiles and lights up the atmosphere with her crystalline and peaceful gaze.
Mayke’s American Shot. Conversation in Vigo, Spain. Source: www.ritapouso.com