I recently saw this photo on one of my FaceBook feeds. The author, a very well intended young lady, had the following to say:
“I wonder what the people in a third world country would think if they saw our expensive lifestyles and knew that despite the plentiful abundance of food and water and clothes, that we still live in stress and frustration and unhappiness.
As they walked around searching for a bite of bread– would they be angry that we take for granted our plentiful resources and wealth untold?”
With the hatred and bile building in the current political campaign, I just wonder how many of the “power mongers” are happy.
Who looks the happiest here?
I live near a couple of very prosperous neighborhoods; Atherton and Hillsborough. Atherton is where the houses go for acres, and Hillsborough is where Robin Williams recently took his own life. Gated communities, high pressure jobs, not knowing your neighbors, security companies, social and political paranoia, Illuminati conspiracies…
All I am saying, is a few years ago I saw a different side. We were in vacation with my wife and kids down south of Cancun. I never like staying in the big Cities, and I know enough Spanish to get around, at least where (outside of the coastal tourist spots where they all want to work on their English). Drop me off in downtown Guad, and I can get around just fine (after a tequila or two).
We stayed in a Palapa in Puerto Morelos. It was near the beach, and mosquito infested, but we loved it. There was a mexican family right across the courtyard on the street side, and my girls both went through several years of Spanish Immersion school back home, so they hit it off.
They helped with the other mexican girls’ homework (my eldest ended up being a teacher in LA to mostly hispanic kids later, a different story). I drank all evening with Senior Hernandez, and in his non existent english, and a camaraderie born of tequila and Cerveza, we had a grand old time.
The next afternoon, Domingo, or Sunday, we went into town to get our $5 Pollo, con arroz y frijoles. The thing that amazed me then, and to this day, is the poverty. It is a small fishing village. They have dirt floors and very poor if any plumbing. They still all get together in the town center, several nights a week at about 10:00pm, and party till the wee hours of dawn together.
When you travel down the dirt roads of this town, all you see are smiles. Many of them are toothless, and I’m sure few of them have the same life expectancy of those who can afford Dr. Phil advice, Mayo Clinic meds, or Betty Ford. But how much better off are we – really?