For a long time I’ve been hunting the
existence of the link between wealth and happiness. People say money brings you
additional misfortune, more necessities and duties.
During my travels I watched the business
class at airplanes, as a student in UK I watched first class cabins on the
trains. I’ve seen posh clubs and restaurants; I’ve seen the alternatives of
hotels there is today. The high class-shopping streets in every city, the pent houses
with sky-high metallic fences. Limousines pumping out music but leaving only a shady
tinted window to stare back into.
And today it hit me, the more money you
spend the less you see. The better technology you paid for the less tempted
will your curiosity by other answers. The nicer office, house and car you have
the less you will go outside it.
People are paying to be separated; more
money to fly business class and not deal with screaming children, couples
fighting, foreign views of personal space.
They get picked up at the airport, attend meetings, they get guided through the country to see buildings meaning nothing
to them, moments as a tourist, to then get taken back to their country in the
same way.
In hotels they get their room service to
not deal with the queues, the noise or the time wasted just waiting for food.
They go to expensive restaurants with
quality food cooked by a gourmet chef because it cannot be wrong, it will
always taste amazing.
In the posh-clubs there will be beautiful
people, people with money, people that wants to make business and people long
gone, VIP-areas with a crowd that wants to dance among people without touching
or connect with them.
There will be bouncers removing trouble-makes,
girls will get their drinks paid for and it will be too loud to have a
conversation.
Shopping-malls full with young attractive
men and women that will grab your attention before you even seen what they
offer, they will want to help you to know what you want.
They are professionals, they must know.
I suddenly know why I didn’t see travelling
as something big when I was travelling with my family, we were safe and in
control anywhere we went hiding behind the word tourist.
When we can pay for the service we will
restrict the good-hearted to help us, help us because while they help they will
also embrace their own country. We take away their rights to see their home
through our eyes.
When I travelled on my own I fought for a
little extra bit of luggage in Italy with a woman having no compassion, I ran
after a man who stole my purse, I heard conversations because people would
almost sit on my lap. I got food poisoned and found a friend at the same time.
I learned to speak without knowing the language in countries where English was
too foreign.
The higher society the less it has to do
with the origin of the place.
And I ask myself why does people want to
miss all of this, why is this image of luxury not associated with the real
price, to not see. To be so disconnected that the true world is less
appreciated than fancy curtains.
Why can I fall asleep around 30 other
children in kinder garden on a thin madras on the floor, girls, boys, friends
and strangers and years later I need a door, a room, a lock and an ultimate
comfort to sleep?
Danger is like anything else, nothing we
can hide from and nothing we can be free from. Therefor to pay the price of a
white wall between you and the rest will be a lost gamble, every time.
