The first Camp I ever went to, at least the first I have any memories of, was Candelaria. The campsite was high in the hills far from Cochabamba, impenetrable from threats like marauding villagers, personal hygiene, or warmth. They named it Candelaria after a Virgin or someone that was seen nearby back in the day (they were always seeing virgins over there) or perhaps because calling it Stallag 18 would have been walking on well-trodden ground.
MK Tales has had an iPhone theme for ages now, but I’ve updated the little Homescreen icon to bring joy to the masses. That’s just how kind I am to the 10% of you getting your Tales fix on your Apple device. There’s also an
annoying amazing little popup reminding you at add MK Tales to your homescreen.
Well! At long last, a brave soul heeded the call for decent (at last!) writing on MK Tales. And a celebrity no less! He often gets confused with that guy from Blue Bloods. Magnum P.I., take it away…
I see you have been compiling stories of some truth about me without revealing my true identity.
When we lived in Bolivia, we were pretty poor. Better off than most, but compared to Steve Jobs, the IKEA guy or Mother Teresa: pretty poor. This meant I got no pocket money and as a white kid, opportunities for honest work weren’t plentiful, aside from maybe selling vegetables on the street for 50c a month, or my remaining organs Dad didn’t have dibs on.