Of rich and poor

Today seems to be the kick-off for another class, after a long spring semester, and not-so-long break. Maymester that is. I'm here, stuck in Nashville, yearning to do something, I hate to be stuck here during the holidays it's just so plain boring, with foreseeable daily activity, which includes, but not limited to, a long hibernation that leads to dizziness, stuffing everything and yearning for food and never-ending hunger, missing friends all day long, IMing, SKYPE-ing, waiting for Rie to come back, or waiting to spend some time with Clay, Uyen and whoever lives around Nashville.

Put that aside shall we, and let's think of what others do at this very moment of time, on the other part of the world. I remembered the last trip I went to L.A, It was my third time (三回) as far as my memory doesn't fail me. It was the last day of my winter break, that I was catching a flight back to Nashville, Danny and I were about to return the U-Haul truck back to where it belongs. It was a dull morning on 7th st. with people gushing here and there getting ready for daily concerns or jobs, whichever goes with them.

I was driving the jumbo truck, with Danny looking like a pimp on the co-pilot seat. We're about to enter the rather secluded U-Haul office, when a gang of Mexicans (illegal immigrants, i presumed), came running in our direction with signboard, crying out "Labour! Labour!". Now, i had never seen any of this scene in my life, which surprised me at first, when Danny giggled and explained that they're just immigrants trying to make some money for food to survive yet another day. I sighed, in relief. I remembered back in the days when I was in Malaysia, Danny called us from L.A whenever he had the chance to, talked about his work, etc etc, leaving me wondering what kind of city L.A is like. Initially, when somebody would mention L.A, I would thought of Hollywood, people cruising in Beemers, with convertibles parked in front of the mall, and things like that and not having a single thought of people begging for alms, not to mention homeless. Well, that's what I thought, thousand miles away, until I made my way here, and to witness the truth of life.

Bla bla bla. I remained in front of the office, for like quite a while, standing by quietly, with every bits of seconds, observing these people. There were probably like 20 people, no, more like 30 people clustering in a small gathering at the main gate. Some, with hair rather unkempt, ragged clothes, and tired eyes. I did not have any expectations that some people in L.A lead such life, since statistically California holds the largest growth in economy standing, compared to other states, with 10% of Fortune 500 companies residing at the very hub of L.A, allocating tremendous job opportunities to the 12% Americans, making it the eighth-largest economy in the world.

Screw the statistics, However it may be, this scene doesn't convey anything like it at all. Now do you know how it feels to be like them? It came to my attention that some people are just less fortunate. They came into this world in poverty, rarely able to eat breakfast every morning and still not complaining about the food they're having, while me, wasting food every single day and yet, full with complaints.



What does it feel to be them? Is it pleasant to live such live? Is it pleasant to live solely on the uncertainties of tomorrow? What does it feel not being able to eat when you're hungry but merely watching the passer-by with delicious hot dogs in their hands, stuffing their faces? What does it feel no to be able to eat cheese and know what they even taste like, not to mention to acknowledge the difference between mozzarella and cheddar? How does it feel to wear rugged, smelly clothes and least to say, in their life to ever heard of Converse, or Old Navy or ....... (name your brand) and regardless, still be able to joke around with their fellow friends waiting for uncertain work opportunity and smile every now and then? How does that feel to go to the beach side, and as you take stroll along the beach of L.A, found a little child begging for alms in the middle of the people sun-basking.



A bit eccentric if you ask me, but to my amazement, such thing does exist.

A bit of thing to ponder upon, of being poor material-wise and rich at heart. I'll leave the answer to you to decide. But one thing for sure, it won't hurt to change this sign right?




A bit of reminder to myself, to be grateful of what I'm having and stop becoming a complainer. I hope that one day, I could make a difference. Insyaalah, I could make these smile even more meaningful :P