Two days ago, at approximately 3.45 Thursday morning, a truck driver named Gregorio Rabassa misjudged the clearance beneath the pedestrian overpass on the thirty-second block of Avenida Cahuide. His truck, packed with washing machines and destined for a warehouse not far from there, hit the bottom of the bridge, shearing the top off his trailer and bringing part of the overpass down on to the avenue below. The back of the trailer opened on impact, spilling the appliances into the street. Fortunately, at the time of the accident there were no other cars on that stretch of road, and Mr Rabassa was not seriously injured. Emergency crews arrived within the hour, flooding Cahuide with light, and set about clearing the road of debris. Scraps of metal, pieces of concrete, the exploded insides of a few washing machines, all of it was loaded and carted away. Except for the ruined bridge, little evidence remained of the accident by the morning rush, and many people who lived nearby didn’t even hear what had happened while they slept.

The neighbourhood to the east of Cahuide does not have one name but many, depending on whom you ask. It is known most commonly as The Thousands, though many locals call it Venice, because of its tendency to flood. I’ve heard it referred to in news reports as Santa María, and indeed it does border that populous district, but the name is not exactly correct. A few summers ago, after a wave of kidnappings, police dotted the area with checkpoints and roadblocks, and the neighbourhood became known as Gaza, an odd, rather inexact reference to troubles on the other side of the world, only briefly and occasionally noted in the local press. How this nickname stuck is a mystery. The Thousands is an ordinary neighbourhood of working poor, crammed with modest brick houses lining narrow streets. It is set in the foggy basin between two hills and the only people who know it well are those who call it home. A turbid, slow-moving creek runs roughly paral...