I did something today that Indiana Jones would have been impressed by. I just took my corpulent, over indulged, out of shape, one glass of wine too many, sorry ass up a mountain to visit a group of men, women and children living in the most difficult circumstances that you could possibly imagine. These people were…absolutely real! You would have loved the eyes of the women with their corn cob pipes. I would rather spend ten minutes with any one of them than have an opulent lunch with Ben Bernanke. I guess Ben and Tim and Henry or any one of those fat cats on Wall Street would faint at the very idea of living the way I just saw these people living. They hike up this trail that would kill a camel and they live with almost nothing. When they want to come to town they start at 2 in the morning and walk for 8 hours on a nearly impossible path knee deep in mud. They work hard getting the little flecks of gold out of the river. They have only kitchen pans, and an old spring from a truck is their only tool for moving the big rocks. They may deserve it but nobody gives them a bonus.
Quelle: Tackling Economic Clouds
Genau dieses respektvolle Gefühl erfährt man unweigerlich, wenn man Entwicklungsländer besucht. Und sich auch mal abseits von breitgetretenen Touristenpfaden bewegt.
Der Mole National Park in Ghana war dann äusserst surreal — überall bleiche, weisse Touristen, die sich am Pool in der Mittagssonne ihren wohlverdienten Sonnenbrand holten, während ihnen Schwarze Serviceangestellte Cocktails und Softdrinks an die Liege brachten.
