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We were finally there, on the white sand surrounded by a big blue ocean and hundreds of palms. A bit upwards the beach where we expected Bohemic bungalows were instead homes made out of planks and trash. A small man stood on the sand and sold the Coconuts we had seen so many times on all the beautiful travel pictures. We bought one, and laid down close to the water. Suddenly a little boy carefully came closer to us. His clothes were torn and his small hands were dirty. We tried to talk to him but his eyes never met ours. Quietly, he sat down in the sand between us. The coconut we had bought didn’t taste anything and the picture we wanted was now ruined by the brown flesh. The boy suddenly grabbed the straw and started to drink while he looked out at the big ocean. We sat there for a long time next to him, quietly.