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The Philippines and The Photographer

as told by Michael Anderson

I could taste the dirt in my mouth, the textured grit between my teeth. It seemed that no matter how much I tried to block its entrance, it had a way of taking up residence and making me want to expel it. However, the knowledge that that expulsion would only end up back in my face taught me to simply endure the uncomfortable experience of racing through roads that were not anything like the least maintained roads that I had ever experienced growing up

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