i'm still walking

i always have mixed feelings about beggars in the first world, especially in australia. i'm stuck between that sense of empathy/compassion for someone whose life has gone pear-shaped for reasons beyong their control (whether they be socio-economic, mental health or otherwise), and that shirking-responsibility feeling of 'wft is our rich government doing with our tax money, surely they should be doing something rather than leaving it to chance generosity?' (with the emphasis on they should so that i can continue my day with a clear conscience)

developing countries, including ecuador, are different. i saw a woman in a mingy old half-broken wheelchair, stuck on the side of the road trying to shield herself from traffic because there was no graded entry point for the opposite kerb. i saw a young man with dense congenital cataracts who, for lack of a simple operation as a baby presumable spent his life singing for food on the trolleybus that i found him on, and then there was this (incredibly good-natured) man with dysplastic legs sitting on a skateboard at an intersection begging for money, because....what else can he do? the options aren't great. one realises that there's not a lot of cake in this country, and whatever cake there is, these guys are certainly not getting a slice. here you can unbridle your compassion, here you can not give enough, and whatever inadequate amount you do give (less than you could have given...less than you should have given...), you can still feel pretty good about it.

meeting people like this whose circumstances are so awful and whose only recourse is to beg on the street is the most powerful reality check you can get. here i was, a stupid rich gringo walking down the street, but when i met the guy on the skateboard, and crouched down to shake his hand, he took it with a firm grip and put his other arm around me and looked into my eyes with the biggest, most beautiful grin on his face and said 'buenos dias', and i just melted into a puddle right there and then, right there in front of him on the kerb. this man's reality cast light on my own, and helps me remember that despite my stupid weak leg and pain problems, not only am i still walking, but i've got it good. oh man: i've got it really, really good.