Truth is funnier than Fiction.

At least it is to me, sometimes it's very hard to explain the full extent of why things are funny to other people but I assume that those blessed with a full and functioning sense of humor will appreciate the effort.

A new classmate of mine, lovely fellow by the name of Sunny recently had an adventure. A friend of his had recently had an operation and was feeling poorly. Cooped up at home, he offered to come visit in an effort to cheer her up somewhat. Being at the university he asked the Teacher for some help with the address. This girl, the sick one lives in the south. If you know anything about Bogotá know that 11 blocks south of the city center is far enough for most things to have turned to poverty.

The teacher helps Sunny catch a Taxi and he is away, from Street 40 north heading directly to street 11 south. On the way he decides that he should get some flowers, and discusses this with the Taxi Driver. They drive around looking for the flowers, first in supermarkets, then corner stores, then just about anywhere. The are no florists in the south, no one has the money to decorate the dining table with a bouquet when there is no food with which to dine, or even a specific table for that matter.

On suggestion from a store owner they eventually track down a place that has flowers amongst their product set. They visit the place, they have flowers in stock and sell Sunny the flowers he needs, although they don't usually sell just the flowers by themselves.

I am not sure of the ethical, social or cultural ramifications of purchasing a "get well" gift of flowers to give to a sick person from the top of a coffin at a funeral home, but if they never know ... no harm no foul, right ?

If you are really poor. the only time you receive a bunch of flowers is when you die.

Unfortunately truth is more painful than fiction aswell.