What is the matter with the stars!?

Diana's wake was a mixed bag.  Children ran around the coffin, screaming and giggling while adults sat in silence.  The tradition for the wake is that the priest gives a sermon, then the family serves coffee with sugar and soda crackers.  Then everyone sits around telling jokes until odd hours of the morning.  Diana was never baptized and whispered concerns circulated that her soul would be stuck in purgatory forever.  People blamed the parents for being irresponsible.  Before the wake could really get going -- before the priest could give his terrible speech -- the parents had to frantically search for a godmother to do a retroactive baptism.  To me and Angie, it seemed absurd that the family had to worry about all that.

Diana's family is very poor and death is expensive.  Another concern that rumbled was whether or not her family would be able to afford to bury her.

After the wake, Angie and I got dinner at our favorite restaurant.  As we reflected on Diana's death and the wake, Angie's purse slid off her chair into the fingers of some unknown culprit.  Among other things, her purse housed a copy of the keys to our apartment.  Since Huaraz is small and we stick out, it would not be very hard for someone to follow us home and let themselves in at their convenience, treating themselves to all of our belongings.  I am standing guard at home while Angie is out to find the locksmith.  We are getting the lock changed.