Maybe he said, ¨can you spare some change?¨, ¨please help me, Miss¨, or perhaps, ¨you have very beautiful eyes, my dear¨, when he grabbed my arm in the market today. I don´t know because I couldn´t understand his rapid, slurred Spanish. I just pulled away, without making eye contact and mumbled the ever-ready, lo siento, I´m sorry.
Why couldn´t I look him in the eye? Why are we sorry?
Later, the same day, a nice, clean, smiling elderly man approached me and spoke rapidly about Leon and the beautiful surrounding villages. He also told me some language differences in Nicaraguan Spanish and then commented on how beautiful my eyes were... Although I couldn´t understand him completley, either, I decided to make conversation and listen to his stories.
Today I am feeling quite guilty, puzzled and a bit sad regarding the shell that is hardening around me. Everyday I have tons of encounters with locals but I dismiss most of them out of fear. Fear of the unknown, fear for my safety, fear of misunderstanding due to the lack of my language comprehension and fear of facing a cold truth. The truth being that poverty, sickness, anger and loneliness surround me.
Nicaragua is not only the largest and most populated (5.5 million) country in Central America, but is also the poorest. War and recurring natural disasters (earthquakes, floods, drought, swells, and volcanic eruptions) have destroyed much of the country’s economic base and caused great human loss.
And so I walk on, head down, perhaps muttering a polite apology, failing to even recognize the other person as a human being, who is asking merely to be seen and understood...
I know I can´t help them all, spare change won´t go far. Will eye contact, a smile, some kind words or even my time, provide any relief? I don´t know the answer, but I do feel somewhat ashamed at my constant knee-jerk reactions.
No one would ever wish or ask to be poor, sick or lonely. No one wants to beg, but millions, billions do everyday, who must, in order to survive.
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