I've become political

It's a cliche I know, but we really don't know how good we've got it until you see a different culture. Sleep walking into a political argument with a fellow traveler, I have become intolerant of people who winge 'their lives are bad and they can't get out of bed to sort it'. People make radical claims that they're 'ill mentally' and need anti-depressants to fix the problem. Never is the problem taken on first hand, dealt with and sorted. Just to shy away, take days of work in the hope that 'things' will get better. It infuriates me to the point anger.
The British have become so reliant on a system that carries on giving free health and benefits that people in general think there is something wrong with them and therefore entitled to prescriptions.

Take this indigenous family for example. Everyday, cold or hot, ill or healthy, fit or unfit, young or old, disabled or abled, they go to work. Why? Not because they want to but because they have to. To live is the only goal, and they do it without complaint or hesitance. That is how I want to be. 100% in for living and not some kind of pathetic moocher.

Columbia......

Just to let you know if you didn't already......

I'm in Columbia, doing all kinds of crazy stuff. Carry on reading. Trying to wang an interview with a drug lord like in the film Blow...

The beauty of the slums

Several weeks ago, I wrote about a girl that I had met in a club in 'you know our culture isn't that great.' Last weekend, I was invited to her house, and what a surprise it was. Turning off tarmaced road onto a dusty trail of rocks and stones, my eyebrows lifted and I hoped I had the right address. Her front door has a metal frame, with steel wires across similar to a tennis court. Her 'house' has two permanent room, a bedroom and a living room. Each about a similar size if I lay across the floor I would just about be able to touch from end to the other with my arms fully stretched. The kitchin is around the back and barely room for me to walk in. It's crawlling with ants and cochroaches. There's no garden.
The front porch has been converted into Mayuroie's room. Her cuboard is a disused fridge and her walls to not reach the roof. I dread to think of what it must be like to sleep here when the temperature droops.
Oh yeah. There's no shower. Only buckets of cold water to dunk on yourself.
Weirdly however the familly, of which there are five in total comprising of a mother and four children, have THREE televisions including a DVD player, all fairly modern. Before you think it's because they're so cheap out here, think again. They cost more than they do in the UK.

But here lives the most beautiful girl that I have seen. Barely reaching 5ft, she has long black hair incredible eyes and the most amazing figure. It is amazing to think that this girl, with so little can look and be so beuatiful. So many people at home just go off the rails when they have little, turn to other forms of escapism when the run is bad. It something which I just don't feel sorry for anymore. Mayurie, a 21 year old girl is as innocent as they come. She doesn't drink, and when I suggested to get some beers she freaked saying that alcohol is strictly for special occasions, doesn't smoke and certainly doesn't do drugs. I obeyed the rule on every front, seeing a girl that had absoulute respect for herself.

Her clothes may suggest that she has maybe fairly good upbringing. All the latest fashions etc. Of what little makeup she wears when she goes out, she could be a 'daddy's little rich girl.' It is a polorised reality.

When I was there her mother was 'away for the weekend,' leavning her in charge of her little brother and sister. She cooked, cleaned even dressed for them. She wakes up a 5AM just so she can have time to prepare lunch for the little ones. All this without a second thought.

She is, without a doubt, the beauty of the slums.