Shifting to another part of the world, suppose we were to visit a large city
situated along the coast of South America. We would immediately be struck
by the sharp contrasts in living conditions from one section of this sprawling
metropolis to another. There is a modern stretch of tall buildings and wide,
tree-lined boulevards along the edge of a gleaming white beach; just a few
hundred meters back and up the side of a steep hill, squalid shanties are
pressed together in precarious balance.
If we were to examine two representative families—one a wealthy and
well-connected family and the other of peasant background or born in the
slums we would no doubt also be struck by the wide disparities in their individual
living conditions. The wealthy family lives in a multiroom complex on
the top floor of a modern building overlooking the sea, while the peasant family
is cramped tightly into a small makeshift dwelling in a shantytown, or
favela (squatters’ slum), on the hill behind that seafront building.
For illustrative purposes, let us assume that it is a typical Saturday evening
at an hour when the families should be preparing for dinner. In the penthouse
apartment of the wealthy family, a servant is setting the table with expensive
imported china, high-quality silverware, and fine linen. Russian caviar, French
hors d’oeuvres, and Italian wine will constitute the first of several courses. The
family’s eldest son is home from his university in North America, and the other
two children are on vacation from their boarding schools in France and
Switzerland. The father is a prominent surgeon trained in the United States.
His clientele consists of wealthy local and foreign dignitaries and businesspeople.
In addition to his practice, he owns a considerable amount of land in the
countryside. Annual vacations abroad, imported luxury automobiles, and the
finest food and clothing are commonplace amenities for this fortunate family in
the penthouse apartment.
And what about the poor family living in the dirt-floored shack on the side
of the hill? They too can view the sea, but somehow it seems neither scenic nor
relaxing. The stench of open sewers makes such enjoyment rather remote.
There is no dinner table being set; in fact, there is usually too little to eat. Most
of the four children spend their time out on the streets begging for money, shining
shoes, or occasionally even trying to steal purses from unsuspecting people
who stroll along the boulevard. The father migrated to the city from the rural
hinterland, and the rest of the family recently followed. He has had part-time
jobs over the years, but nothing permanent. Government assistance has recently
helped this family keep the children in school longer. But lessons learned
on the streets, where violent drug gangs hold sway, seem to be making a
deeper impression.
One could easily be disturbed by the sharp contrast between