Another Day in "Paradise"

She ducked her head and stood upright as soon as I pulled out of my driveway.  And, as I got out to shut our gate and get back in the car, she remained that way, feigning that she was just standing on the corner one house down from ours. 

But I had already seen.  I saw her stooped over and digging through the garbage bags sitting by the road. 

I watched her in the mirror and saw her resume her garbage picking when I turned the opposite direction.  Deciding to turn back her way, I pulled up next to her.  She kept her face down and back to me as I rolled my window down.  I don't know if she was ashamed or afraid I was there to chase her off.  When she finally did turn to me, I saw a grandmother's weathered, tired face. 

I realize dumpster diving is a popular hobby for some in affluent countries.  There are even websites dedicated to best practices.  Totally serious.  But even one website I looked at encouraged divers to, "Choose another job when possible." 

For so many, there isn't an option.  And it happens every trash day that there are hungry people digging through mine and my neighbors' refuse.  One man's trash...another man's treasure. 

Rotting food mixed in with diapers, dirty paper towels and all manner of unsanitary mess should never be a treasure.

***

You can tell from the lines on her face
You can see that she's been there

***

Nearly every shop here employs car guards.  Honestly, it's job creation because what is a guy or gal expected to do when a theft or vandalism occurs?  You give them some change to tip them for watching your car, for helping you load your bags and for helping you back out of your spot.

That day, I walked up to my car, arms full of groceries, and, instead of passing the bags to the car guard, I gave him my car keys, asking him to unlock the door for me. 

And that is when I realized I made a mistake.

I watched this 20-something year old fumble with the key as he tried to figure out how to unlock the door.  What comes as second nature to a 20-something in the States does not come naturally to a young man who has never owned a car.  It never occurred to me he had never even unlocked one. 

I felt embarrassed for him and berated myself for putting him in that position. 

***

Oh,
Think twice
'Cause it's another day for you and me in paradise

***

I see this sight every day.  Every. Day.  People walking on the side of the road.  I have lived here over a year and a half and it is still not something I am "used to."  The hardest ones to watch are the elderly and the mamas with babies walking next to them or strapped to their backs.  I huddle my kids close to me even in a parking lot.  How do these mamas walk these highways with their toddlers walking next to them?

Have you ever complained that your car doesn't have a/c?  I used to.  Now, I see how ridiculous I can be in light of the fact that I really should just give thanks I have reliable transport. 

Even the young adult pedestrians cause turmoil in my heart.  How is it that I get to have a car just because I was born into the "right" family and blessed with friends who support us?  How do they rise before daybreak to walk across highways and across towns and then work all day...in the humidity that suffocates or in the wind that chills (depending on the season)...without proper hydration...or enough food? 

I pick up the women and the elderly.  I'm too wary to pick up the young men unless they are younger than pre-teen.  I have been blessed by a lot of really neat people this way.  The small talk can be pleasant and uplifting. 

It can also be awkward.  Like when I picked up a young woman because I didn't like the look of the two men trailing her on a road with lots of tall brush.  I commented how it must be hard to walk in the heels she was wearing.  You know, small talk.  And her response was not unkind but it was honest and I have never forgotten it or how resigned she sounded when delivering it. 

"When you are poor, you don't have a choice."

I never meant to insult her.  But what she speaks is truth and it has been a reminder to filter every word before it comes out and test how it might be received by the listener. 

And every day.  Every.  Day.  I see the walkers who don't have a choice and I am wracked with guilt.

***

She's got blisters on the soles of her feet
She can't walk but she's trying

***

We are fans of Vusi.  He sits outside the grocery store sometimes.  He sits because he cannot stand.  I don't know his condition but his feet are shrivelled and it looks as if he did not fully develop in the womb.  So, he sits on a modified skateboard.  Low to the ground where he always has to look up at people who stop to give him food or chat.

He even has to look up at my seven and nine year olds when they stop to speak to him. 

How does it feel to always be low to the ground, hands covered in dirt, always having to look up to and for the hands that bring you food?

How does a handicapped man survive in a place where jobs are hard to find for even the able-bodied? 

And, yet, he has the kindest smile.  And we are fans of Vusi.

He makes about $125 a month from his pension.  $70 of that, he pays a taxi driver to transport his 10 year old daughter and 13 year old son to and from school.  They can't walk to school because it's too far. Vusi pays over half his pension so they can continue their schooling.

And then he begs.  He takes a taxi 30 minutes into town, always hoping the money or food he will earn from begging will make up for the taxi fees. He pushes himself with calloused hands along the pavement to position himself in front of the grocery store.

And he wears that smile all the while.

My heart rejoices every time I see him.  My heart aches every time I see him. 

***

Oh,
Think twice
It's just another day for you
You and me in paradise

Just think about it
Hmm-mmm
Think about it

***

I live in an area where people come for vacation.  Even though I'm not an ocean person, I can see why people flock here every school holiday.  If you look beyond the beaches and the flowers that bloom all year long, though, you will see there is no such thing as paradise for a lot of the people who live here.  For the hungry, the weary, the walkers, the handicapped, the poor, every day is the same.  I will never again listen to Phil Collins croon those lyrics to "Another Day in Paradise" without remembering that paradise can have shadows that disguise the hell.