This one, in the city of Cuenca in Southern Ecuador, had taken one hundred years to finish. The pink marble with which it has been decorated, walls and columns, has been quarried from a nearby mountain. Every night it is filled to capacity by throngs of faithful citizens, all full of pious thoughts and circumspect demeanour. I was there six years ago, and was delighted by the never ending activity in a city still full of ancient habits where, if you walk in nearby fields, you can feel that you are living in another era, at least one hundred years earlier. The peasants still work the land by oxen ploughs. When you walk back into town and enter one of the dozen internet cafes ringing the square, you can immediately chat with your friends in Europe or the US, at the touch of a button.
Such are the contradictions of our time.
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