I love shots of strangers, and thought I would share one of the best 'strangers' stories I have come across... just as a bit of inspiration!
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Original Blog by Cass in South America (Any comments please send to Cass on her blog)
yesterday i met a remarkable man. he was shirtless and toothless and wore visible scars. he was dirty and bescraggled and mumbled his words. his breath smelled faintly of stale alcohol and his skin hung loose on his bones.
he approched me in the main square of santa ana and muttered something that i thought i recognised as english. i quickly dismissed that as impossible. i responded kindly but vaguely. we started to talk. it was english. very good english, only slurred by a drug-slowed mind. - how do you know english so well? - from when i lived in the states. - what were you doing there? - studying for my second degree. seeing the barely concealed shock in my eyes, he explained: - the alcohol.
i stood there, amongst the swarm of children i was with, and talked with this gentle man for half an hour. he shared his story. his name is edwin antonio and he is 58 years old. - call me epa, he said, everyone knows epa. he was from cuba. had lived in el salvador a very long time. had also lived many years in mexico and a decade in the states. he had been orphaned at a young age. all he had had left in the world was his sister. when she died too, he turned to drink. - i was so sad, he explained, so sad. he was put in jail numerous times, for being drunk and in the street. - they did not understand my pain, he sighed. and now he had lived in the streets of santa ana for 7 years.
when he spoke of his sister he cried mud tears. that is not some clever metaphor. he was so dirty from living in the street that when he cried the liquid mingled with the filth and made brown tears.
the children were mesmerised. quietly the pequeños, who were in town for their once a year $10 birthday shopping spree, started coming up to him and offering him gifts. sweets. money. apples. he was so appreciative. i was so proud.
it's been the talk of the last 24 hours as all the children who were not there have heard about it. they come up to me, ask if it was true i was talking to the bolo (drunk) or viejito (old man) in santa ana yesterday. yes, i was. and did he kiss your hand? yes, he did. oh, they say, and walk off lost in thought. i do not know what they are thinking but i am glad they are thinking.