Looking at those kids and thinking of their dump-dwelling cousins, I realized that, even if you're motivated only by greed, if you know what's good for you, you don't want to be filthy rich in a desperately poor world. I've seen it here in Central America, where fancy houses are built with speed bumps in front forcing angry people to slow down before tossing explosives into their yard enabling guards to get the license plate number. I've seen it in Java, hanging out with rich Chinese behind designer fortifications. And I've seen it in Dallas, driving out to Plano past ten miles of fortified front yards with chicken wire over the top to protect those relatively wealthy children from the have-nots who roam those fine streets.
Feeling the breeze of the chopper as Santa climbed back in and it flew away, I took another sip of the drink I just paid half a day's local wages for. Pulling out my little notebook, I added a few more observations, and continued my education.
About This Entry
You are reading "Santa and the Chopper", an entry posted on 14 October 2009 by Rick Steves.