by FERENC IVANICS
Manuel was a simple, poor and kind host for us. He’s unemployed and lives in really humble conditions. He shared his humble food and let us camp in his yard and use his simple bathroom; and had a chat with us...
“Hey, Manuel. How’s this thing with the poorness in Mexico. We’ve heard people complaining about how poor they were so many times here. But three-third of the population looks pretty overweight.”I’ve been expecting that answer for a while now. And a Mexican fellow answered me: he’s poor, but he always has food on the table. (And he cultivates some extremely hot chillies in his garden, dammit.)
“Well, the problem is that most of us cannot really appreciate what we have. Nothing is enough, though we have almost everything here.”
We came to realize how rich we were at home in the Sahara Desert. In black Africa people are really poor. Here, in Mexico poor means another stuff: “Don’t have means to buy the latest smartphone, LED-TV, game console or fashion.” It’s really grotesque to hear obese locals complain about how poor they are. (Just on a side note: Manuel’s neighbor breeds fighting roosters. Who knows, a proud death might be better than living in an industrialized farm...)
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