As much as I say that luck does not exist, do not believe anything. I've been checking that all life is pure lies. As an example I present the following event shows that life continually presents us vicissitudes of fortune.
few days ago, still in Dutch territory, María José and I visited the beautiful city of Den Haag. Before proceeding it is worth making a break to recognize my utter lack of culture, for up to one week after the tour I learned that Den Haag is nothing less than The Hague, seat of the International Criminal Court. And I thought it was kind of Ixtapa Dutch ... In my defense, the monkey's because tourists did not mention us the facilities of the Court among the attractions of the port, and instead we talked about a museito anyone and do not know what the Queen's gardens.
pass then the three of us were walking aimlessly around The Hague when we see a masacote of people gathered, surrounded police. The grid, the grid, and of course we went to insert into the crowd. Asked one of those present what it was this congregation, and we're learning that one would come unless the Dalai Lama mesmísimo. According. I never considered myself a follower of the monk and Buddhist teachings or, as my friend Paul would say, Dalai ridge. Still, the opportunity was unique.
For supollo we wanted to witness such an event. And so I say good luck there, two minutes that the caravan is coming very elegant car, escorted by police and guards of various species. Dutch losers ball that took hours waiting, because by not speaking their language and not well understood although its rules, suddenly I found myself as two meters in one car, much closer than any other. Until I realized that the shouts of the police were directed to me, and I had to remove a bit.
did not matter, just then lowered the Dalai Lama from his car, surrounded by guards. Dumbfounded, I could not believe my situation: a short distance from the character, no one between him and me, photographing freely and calculating how much you could sell those valuable images. Then one of the portraits that captured the Tibetan monk.
Meanwhile, the stupid ball onlookers and reporters were not aware that the Dalai and had left the car and bustling around the vehicles escorts, with their cameras ready to capture the moment. Pendehos.
he was still mentally holding my journalistic skills when an event caused my confusion: the car down another monk, identical to the one I had photographed. 
And suddenly, from behind, I get a third character, again, anyway.
"How?" I said, "What is good?" No matter, we should get all three, lest it be that I escaped the head honcho.
Suddenly in the distance, the fuzz starts to scream and applaud. I interrupted my intensive photo session to understand the reason for the hype, and I suddenly realized what it was. The Dalai Lama was not one of the three to which I stalked furiously. Pendeha.
I ran to the ground and tried to insert myself between them for at least one image of the eminence, but I found it impossible. Then resorted to the old reportorial technique, raised my arm, camera in hand, and pressed the button as many times as I could, hoping to capture aunuque was the bald head of the Good Samaritan. You can imagine the result, because in this land of my shyness elongated figures resembling dwarfism. Total failure.
Well, either a detail like this that I tell them I do not lose the excitement of the event. For posterity, I will say that I photographed the Dalai Lama, after all I bet you do not you would recognize.
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