Tales Of Resistance: Why Do The Poor Laugh?
In the middle of the holidays, the pipes in my apartment got clogged for the second time this year. On both occasions water was scarce for several days, and when it did arrive it brought so many rocks that the flow got blocked.
I had no option but to call our “community plumber.” In other words, a man that for the past 30 years has fixed issues with pipes in this building and nearby (and lately he’s been as busy as ever).
We’re talking about a good-natured fellow, a lovely guy, one of those who helps you carry bags, preaches about Jesus, sends his regards to the family and suddenly tells you, with a sweet smile: “that will be US $200.” And one can’t help but think “he’s screwing me, but how on earth can I curse such a nice man?”