Santiago city

My Santiago has the autumn colors... no colorful, no grey. Just in the middle of both.
My Santiago has the tradition of their people; even in this days you can see a cart horse in their streets, not in the middle center, but for there. At the same time this city try to appear modern... and sometimes to be modern, try to hide their face not so nice. Because my Santiago is some pretentious, and does not want to show their face in transition, but just the clean, just the growth.

But here, in my Santiago, you still can buy in the middle center a mote con huesillos. Find in their free markets „camote“ and to see old occupation like „lustrabotas“, „diarero“ „heladero“ and even the „sapo“ that guy who notify to driver bus, the distance between different buses.

In this Santiago happens two histories, parallel but unkown for each of them. The history of its opulence, and the history of its poverty. Every one of them with predjuices about other it

Santiago, Santiago. I have live here my entere life, but I have breathed other airs, other smells. I have seen other colors, other faces. The faces of Santiago are mixed. There are disatisffied faces, ungry faces, but there are new faces with specifically demands, people who want to change the face of Santiago, of Chile. New generation who want to create a equality society. People who know both sides of Santiago, of Chile.

Santiago always have to wanted be the big capital, the small big Chile. But Santiago isn´t Chile. Unfortunately Santiago sounds, Santiago makes itself visible, and the other cities, other towns, do not exist.

Santiago is my city, and isn´t my city. Here I have lived for so many years, but I do not want to be here all my life. I don´t want to feel, to breathe the polution all my years. I want a city with less concrete, more green, and maybe a city where I could walk to everywhere without to lose my breathe.