A Talk in the Park

I probably spoke to and listened to more Spanish today than I have the whole time I’ve been here. This guy in the park asked me for change and I gave him about 20 cents. He asked about Chena and kept talking and talking for about 2 hours.. maybe 3. I spoke here and there but he was pretty good about explaining something I didn’t get.. that shhhhhhh thing about the accent here is really hard after a while.

He’s a boxer and a beggar, has a kid and a wife , lives 40 minutes away from here. He’s missing some of his his top teeth.. not sure to boxing or what. Hes only 28, father dead, brother dead. Was in the military in another province for a year; works crap jobs here and there. He was really laying into how poor he is till I explained to him that I’m not rich in any form then he started telling me how much money he makes begging and how my rent is 4 times what his is haha. True, but I’m still really really broke all the time, even if it’s broke in a different economic bracket. But It’s nice to actually have someone talk to me and not snub me because I’m american, foreign, because my dog, “is scary”, or because they’re rich (common because of the fancy neighbourhood I live in). I don’t judge anyone and can get along with most, however, the same is not true for most people in my area 🙁

Then while walking, I saw a giant dead beetle. He picked it up and came towards me with it to show me and I almost had a panic attack (not literally).. that was fun.. knowing a 2 inch beetle lives 1/2 block from my house. He said I could take photos at his next boxing match.. its not public, so it should be cool. I hate my photos. Its like I keep taking photos and hoping for a miracle…

sleeping2

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