What?

I took a stroll down to the river as my curiosity was high one afternoon. I reasoned out where on the mall circle I could see a road that led to the river. Walking behind the buildings is like stepping off a movie set. Or maybe behind the Disneyland construction cover-ups.  Shelters are rigged against the concrete building walls and another whole commercial enterprise is being run. I strayed a little down the grubby lane with corrugated tin shelters scattered on one side and on the other a concrete wall with broken holes framed by jagged twisted rebar to the river behind. When I looked through one of the window holes I realised I was on top of a foul smelling shelter and backed up from the dark a little. I could see the farms and the diving spot across the river that I'd noted from 26 floors up. The reality was much steeper than it looks from above. The riverside farms are on an approximate 30 degree angle though the children and families skip around like goats and the space for farming is much narrower than is looks from my aerie.
I did not take pictures. In fact I did not move my hands into anything. My neck hair prickled when two men saunter over, so I looked one squarely in the face and moved to the other side of the road. I have to admit I was glad when a security guard came around the corner with a truck.
Next time I really have to go with a native friend.
But the thought crossed my mind as I smiled at the security guard who opens the door for me everyday, where does he live? As I got into the elevator and smiled at the maintenance worker, saying, "Happy New Year", I wondered where he travels to at night. What kind of home does the lady sweeping the floor look like? What is normal and who is living it?