In 10 years the situation has changed very little. It seems that the population has grown and even more people live by the tracks. Trains come past every day just next to the people of this area. Even though the trains go through at all speed, one has to stop and observe these lives, nearly admire them with incredulity.

It’s a communal life, with little space or privacy, shared with neighbours or passers-by. Most of the time, generations live together in one room where families won’t fit and most of the tasks are done outside or with opened doors: cooking, eating, watching TV, etc. They only possess the minimum: a mattress, a TV, a fridge, a fan, a chair, plastic utensils, etc. However life still goes on: trade, family, work, money and friends.

Children grow up and grandparents grow old in the narrow and darks streets, next to these tracks, under a typically white polluted sky. Even so, they always give you a smile and don’t ask for anything, they welcome you in their humble home and receive you with tea and fruits.

In all cultures we endure and take for granted our life, always thinking that it’s worse or better than other’s.