Filth collects in the gutters, running in putrid rivers; dirt and debris fill doorways and corners. The light here seems dimmer—the closeness of the buildings more oppressive—and people huddle in shadowed alleyways and alcoves, muttering to one another in harsh voices. Yet here you see families too, and kindness: a man drops coins into the palm of a beggar, and offers him a smile; a woman hands fresh-baked bread, from her window, to the outstretched hands of hungry urchins; and a couple whisper sweetly to each other as they stroll hand-in-hand.
