Alms and the Man, my apologies Mr Bernard Shaw

A new twist to 'when in Rome live as the Romans do'.

It was January when travelling overland in South America. We knew it would be summer in the Southern Hemisphere but really did not expect such high temperatures ( 38°C) and humidity.

Unlike Bernard Shaw's heroine (in Arms and the Man) who learns about the  reality of the world around us, we became part of that reality. The humour was not compromised. 

As we ambled the streets of Sao Paulo, even along streets that we had been warned against, we felt very much at home because our skin colour was similar to that of the local inhabitants. We dressed simply, as we were always wont to do in our travels ( branded clothing or shoes and accessories have never interested us, except to marvel at the prices as we windowshop). I carried an unassuming tote while Drink had his fanny pack with our documents. 

Homeless but not helpless

In Brazil and Argentina homeless people are treated with respect. Once we noticed a policeman approach a number of the homeless who made their barebones homes under bridges. He was not filing complaints. In fact, he had a friendly chat.

Unaffectedness draws welfare

In Sao Paolo we found ourselves in the Japanese part of the town. Sao paolo has the largest population of Japanese outside of Japan. They have assimilated very well not only because of their tan but also culturally for the most part. So here we were near shops selling Japanese goods while we noticed a museum dedicated to the Japanese history in Brazil. As usual, Drink encouraged me to visit the museum while he sat on the pavement outside. When I returned I saw him sitting shirtless, just like some of the local population. His cap was beside him, and, guess what? He had some pesos in it. He had been mistaken for a beggar and kind souls had given him alms. Maybe we could make enough money to visit all the museums!

Something similar happened in Paris. The grandchildren and I emerged out of the Metro to walk towards the Louvre hoping to see the Mona Lisa. Drink decided to find a spot nearby to sit and wait for us. So off the three of us went ( we actually got into the Museum for free, stuff for another blog later on ). Nearly 3 hours later we came back to the Metro entrance that is done up like a skeleton Cinderalla carriage embellished with  colourful baubles. Drink, shoeless, had been taking a nap on the bench in its shade with the cap over his face. He woke up to see coins in the cap. They would pay for our trips to answer nature's call.

Charity begins at home

While waiting for the bus ( an 18hour bus ride all the way down south to Buenos Aires)at the Iguazu terminus in Argentina  immediately after immigration procedures at the Brasilian side of the border we felt we should have a little something from a buffet, not necessarily because we were hungry but we needed a seat in a cool atmosphere which couldn't be found anywhere else in the bustling terminus.  

While slowly savouring the food we did what we love doing- people watching. A young affluent looking couple with a little chubby boy walked in through the doors and took up the table beside us. They ordered and as they were eating a few boys gingerly walked into the restaurant towards the tables occupied by non-foreigners and probably begged. I say probably because the children were not dressed in rags. But as soon as the family had finished, the father walked towards the counter at the buffet, bought a few boxes of food, and together with his little son walked to the door and affectionately handed out the food.

When in Buenos Aires,  a local friend visited us for dinner. We shared a lot of information about the Argentinian culture.  She said her country men were all immigrants at one time or other. They called themselves the boat people and that is the root of their compassion.

These are the occasions that leave an indelible memory.