FROM GOLD TO TRASH

>> Reinaldo Reigrimar

On each corner downtown this city a new flash registers the beauties of this place. London, with its proud, raises its modern skyscrapers still more, conserving its old constructions and stimulating tourism and immigration.
People of all tribes divide this “wagon of train” called London. Opposite-sided cars run on strong pavements of narrow streets. The bicycles insist in obtaining its spaces in the infernal Babylonia of cars, motions, horns and traffic lights. Accidents happen frequently, including one of the most impressive scenes that I witnessed: a truck literally swallow one young woman with her bicycle. Against all probabilities, she survived.
Although victims of the biggest terrorist attacks of the country history, the trains and subways still are the ways of transportation most used. Cradle of the Industrial Revolution, as it could not be different, London grew up, became one megalopolis and is very proud of its railroads, which cut the city from North to South and East to West, as a puzzle.
The importance given to such way of transport is justified. The most remote places have a station of train or subway at neighborhood.
The subs, as in all big cities, would not be different only for the fact of being at the first world. Problems as violence and robbery arise and take off the peace of residents. Beggars are common at the feet of walkers. They sit with posters that say: “I’m hungry, please help me”. It can reflect the consequences of opening for eastern European states and shows what can happen in few years in this city.
If the chaos only started, we can’t know what can happen in this pretty city, covered with a carpet that hides all its garbage. It would be good not rising the carpet, but they had forgotten that in this island we have strong winds that can do it and spread dirty all over house.
As I walk at the city thinking about this, a picture in movement smiles in wide teeth.
He was a father in a simple mission: leave the son at school. He was a boy of six years, Muslim, I deduced for his clothes and beret. The father, in a gesture of paternal care, bends down itself until stay face to face with the child. Raising the chin of the boy in an observing care and with the own finger wet with saliva, clean the face of the boy. It was the dental cream that leaved a mark.
It was life passing as a picture. It was me, learning to be human; to see through the things. It was a father waiting his kid to enter the school. With careful, he pictured the boy until he disappeared of his sight.