Water town

Right next door to where I live, with a fence separating the two properties, is a small Buddhist temple (not pictured, but I'll show it to you some other time). On the other side of the Buddhist temple is a village, part of it along a canal. Like Venice maybe.

The above picture, therefore, was taken within a 3 or 4-minute walk from where I live. If there was no fence, it would be a faster walk. Psychologically, the fence keeps me from going there often. In four years, I've only been that way three times, the third time being this week.

I tend to think of villages being out in the countryside. But, in fact, many are in the middle of big cities.

The villages have been there for generations, and then the cities expand and build all around the villages, swallowing them up. Eventually, someone wants the land to build, and the villages are torn down and replaced by modern buildings. The villagers are paid enough to purchase a small home in a high-rise. But many miss the quaint village life when that happens.

In this village, I saw some of the tiniest dwellings I have ever seen in a village. Many village homes in the countryside are huge. But I saw some rooms in this village only big enough for a single bed, a half sofa, and a tiny table for eating. The rooms were smaller than my bedroom. They had no kitchens (they used the alleyway area to cook on portable stoves), and no bathrooms (nice public ones are built in the village though).

I forgot that such dire poverty existed so close to where I live. People inspected me, to see if I had come there to mock their lack of fortune. Many of the things that might have been interesting to photograph had to be relegated to my own memory instead of my camera memory card. I do not want to mock their plight. The tables could have been turned. It could have been me in their place and them in mine.

The canal water, for the record, is filthy.

These retired folks are playing cards (or maybe mahjong) outdoors near the canal on a pleasant fall day.