¿Cuántas personas te robar desde hoy? ( How many people did you steal from today?)

I was standing on the bus, heading towards Chinatown in Belgrano when I saw it all.  As the bus hit the corner of la parque Heras, in sight was an elderly woman who had just removed her purse that was strapped around her body, when in the blink of an eye, a young boy, looking no older than 8 years, with brown khaki pants and a big shirt that looked like it was obviously not his, snatched her purse and zoomed off into the opposite direction that the bus was heading. In less than 10 seconds, he had disappeared into the horizon leaving the woman and onlookers bewildered.

That happened two weeks after I arrived into Buenos Aires…Right; note to self:

1.Keep bag strapped across my body with zips facing inwards

2.Hold on to bag at all times, even though it’s strapped across my body

3. Wear no jewelry

4. Divide money and hide in three different areas; underwear, socks and boots 

5. Don’t trust anyone, far less street kids

And so, I concocted these rules in my head.

As I explored Buenos Aires on my own, I couldn’t help but notice the abundance of street children in the parks, at the entrance to the subway stations, in the subway trains peddling goods, at the squares, or just on the street. Each time I noticed one or a few I would wonder, “ Where are their parents?” “ Why aren’t they in school?”     “ Are they homeless or do they have a place to sleep?”

“ I wonder if they have had anything to eat for the day?”

Part of me wanted to just ask them but I was afraid for obviously I was a tourist, and I was sure that my inadequate Spanish would make the situation a more vulnerable one.

 I was more confident dealing with homeless adults, as I felt that they had accepted their reality (although I am aware that this may not be the case for all and there are some ruthless ones out there), and even with poor Spanish there were always those willing and patient to correct me and help me learn the language.

I had a feeling that street children wouldn’t careless about being patient with some “Morocha” girl trying to be nosy in their business.

And with this uneasiness, I propelled myself into doing research and finding organizations that dealt with street children in Buenos Aires and here’s what I discovered from an article from World Street Children News written in November 2006 (imagine what the figures may look like now given the economic crisis that Buenos Aires has been experiencing over the past couple of years)

• -       More than 3000 children wander the streets begging and scavenging for trash. Most have somewhere to go by day’s end but 700 sleep on the street each night.
• -       75% are boys, 25% are girls
• -       30-40% say they left home to escape poverty and domestic abuse.

After some more digging, I came across CAINA. (http://www.chicosdelacalle.org)

 It’s a center that takes children from the streets and provides them with meals, medical services and a place to rest their heads, however it’s totally up to the children to come into the centre in San Telmo if they wish to.

And so the work with street children began:

Meet “ Miguel”, a feisty 10 year old boy who taught me a lot about how street children operate in Buenos Aires.

Miguel, face covered for obvious reasons

When I first met Miguel, I looked at him and smiled intensely. He blushed.

Our first meeting was just outside Retiro train station where there is always a hustle and bustle of people coming in and out. I knew I had to be careful in my conversation otherwise he wouldn’t open up and would be abrasive, so I started as I smiled with love and pure intentions in my heart, sticking out my right hand to shake his: 

“Hola, me llamo Neeta. No soy de Argentina pero soy de Trinidad y Tobago. Sabes donde esta Trinidad y Tobago? “  

He looked at me almost confused but curious.  I instinctively knew at that moment he was not accustomed to people talking to him far less foreigners.

I pulled out my trusty world map and showed him where Trinidad was.  He looked at me and smiled and said “ pero….como viajas aqua en Beunos Aires ?  (but how did you travel here to Buenos Aires)

And I laughed and said “ En un avion grande” as I showed him in gesture by hands and that seemed to intrigued him as he smiled again. 

“Porque?” he says

“No se. Quiero ver la ciudad y como vive la gente. Quiero ayudar a la gente encuentro” (I don’t know. I want to see the city and how people live. I want to help people that I find)

And we stood there in silence for a bit, he says “ vienes a Buenos Aires solo?” (you come to Buenos Aires alone?) and I replied  “si” and he chuckles and says “ Eres una mujer muy valiente…no es seguro.” (you are a very brave woman..it is not safe)

And as I see his concern for me open up, I asked him his name asked if we could be friends and I then I left. He seemed pleasant.

Two weeks later, I saw him again near Plaza San Martin as I was distributing food to homeless adults, and he instantly recognized me. I waved and as I approached him with other colleagues to give him a bag of food, he ran off.

I didn’t think I’d see him again after that until I saw him some days later hanging around the streets near the Retiro Station. I asked him if he was hungry and if he wanted to get some empanadas and a coca cola with me as I was hungry myself and that the treat was totally on me!

I had never seen a child guzzle a coca cola as fast as he did. He clearly liked it.    

I told him that my Castellano wasn’t so good and if as my friend he can help me if my words weren’t correct or didn’t make sense. He agreed to be my teacher during our little luncheon.

He asked after eating his 3^rd empanada “ Estas feliz?  “ (Are you happy?)

And I said “ A veces…pero estoy tratando a buscar lo que me hace feliz. No estoy seguro.” ( Sometimes… I am trying to find what makes me happy. I am not sure)

Perhaps with that, he sees the vulnerable side of me, and open up about his life. From what I understood from following his castellano and his elaborate hand gestures, this is what I think he said:

He’s part of a group of about 9 street boys. The eldest is 16 and is the gang leader. They all go out in search of loot and bring it in at the end of the day to the leader.  He organizes the sale of the items, in return they get money for food and they all sleep nearby to each other, offering security and protection if any of the boys get into trouble. He calls them his family because he has none. His father used to beat him   and use money to buy drugs and not food, and his mother died when he was younger. He doesn’t know where his father is today.

When they pickpoket it’s usually necklaces, bracelets and watches. Some of the braver children use a small hand knife to slice the thin straps on purses off women when they are not looking and then when the bag is free, they grab it and run.

He is hungry most times, but he has learnt to live on one meal a day. He says he is not afraid as his big brother will protect him.

He had refused to tell me where they gathered at night.  

Nevertheless, I told myself that I was not there to judge.

He asks me more about myself and why would a woman leave her country? He wanted to know if I had run away from home.

And so as I parted with him, I said,   “reuiremos otra vez?” (we will meet another time?) but from then forth, I never saw him for the rest of the time I was in Buenos Aires.

As I searched to find Miguel again, I made some more friends. 

Bravo

Federic

Lauti

These three boys were my gems. I initially had met them outside the church nearby to the government house called Casa Rosada.

They live very far from the city with their mother who is has an 8 month baby and cannot work. They each have a different father.

I took my three pals, with their mom and the baby to lunch one day. I asked them to choose the place, and they all jumped up in excitement and said ‘ Mc Donalds!”

They had never been to Mc Donalds before.

As they each ordered their meal, they were more intrigued with their toy than the meal itself! As we sat eating our meal, we were drawing and playing our favorite game  “ Nombre, Pais, Animales, Comida, Cosa” (Name, Country, Animal, Meal, Thing)

I would write my responses in English while they did theirs in Castellano and we went through the list, I would teach them: Mi Pais con E “ EGYPT”

And then one of the boys would say…” Ah, EGIPTO” and so they would learn the English word for the said country and I would learn the Castellano equivalent to it.

It was funny when we spoke about animals. I would often have to describe the animal by describing the sound it makes and so Mc Donalds turned into an uproar of sounds of animals from monkies, dogs, elephants to lions, and even the occasional huge uproars when one of the boys made the highest points.

People looked on strangely. They could tell the children were from the streets, but it didn’t matter. The children looked so happy and were having such a good time.

 To say the least, the boys are intelligent and have very artistic skills.

As we were walking out off Mc Donalds they boys went up to different people and begged them for their remaining papas fritas (fries) so they can fill their kids’ box up.

And to tell you how they appreciated fries; as we were walking along the pavement, hand in hand, Lauti dropped his box of fries on the street accidently and all the fries spilled out and whereas I was worried and said, “ Esta bien Lauti. Vamos”  (It's ok Lauti, let's go)

But he sat on the pavement, carefully refilling his box with the fries that fell and popping in a few into his mouth as the same time. We were there helping him, trying to not let people step on his fries.

The things in life that we take for granted. For him, this could be a long time before he ever eats hot fresh fries again…there was no way he was going to waste any.

I am sure that some people do have their perceptions about street children...maybe they have been victims and are entitled to their opinion. But consider that not all street children are pick-pocketers, and not all know how to physcologically control what’s happening in their life as in their mind, they need to survive at any cost.  The next time you see a street child, be it in your home country or another country, think twice. Consider what could be their circumstances and talk to them with an open and pure heart and you may be surprised to learn what you may. What they need is love and understanding.

Las circunstancias no definen un hombre pero su actitud en esa circunstancias le define.

"Las circunstancias no definen un hombre pero su actitud en esa circunstancias le define. Para mí, yo soy una persona sin hogar, pero estoy feliz"

(Circumstances do not define a man but his attitude towards those circumstances defines him. For me, I am a homeless person, but I am happy) said by Gustav, my homeless friend in Buenos Aires, Argentina.

How many times have we passed a homeless person straight or looked down on them because they were begging?

Dealing with homeless people over the years has opened up my heart in understanding the depths and variations to human life.

Some of my close friends in Trinidad will remember the random Saturday or Sunday morning when I would wake up and decide “ Oh, I am going to feed the homeless today,” and 6 KISS sandwich loaves later, a messy attempt at making cheese and tuna paste (for those that know my disaccord with cooking), and neatly wrapped sandwiches, I would trot along to Independence, Woodford and Columbus Squares, handing out sandwiches, or leaving sandwiches by the side of those that would be sleeping.

Others would remember my “ Feed the homeless” drives where I would ask people to donate non-perishable food items with self removable lids, bread and clothing and after packaging them together, I would drive around Port of Spain and Wood brook, with a friend, sharing out the packages as though it was Christmas presents being delivered on Christmas day.

I would never forget the time that after dropping off packages on Woodford square, a homeless guy came up to me and asked that he spoke to me for a minute. I had to oblige with his politeness and his smile that revealed with 3 brown tarnished teeth left in his mouth. He led me to a table on the square, where a priest was sitting. He reached into his tattered bag and pulled out a perfume and said “ This is for you” I looked at him bewildered and said, “ No sir, I cannot accept this. I appreciate the gift but I cant”.

The priest then looked at me and said “ Accept it my child, for this is his way of saying that he really appreciates what you are doing…to not accept it would be an insult to him,” and so with that in mind, I took it and smiled and softly said “ Thank you” and walked away, with a tear rolling down my cheek.

A man that has nothing shares a prized possession with a girl that has practically everything she could have wished for…

Here in Buenos Aires, in a city with almost 3 million people, there are many people that live on the streets (as with any big city). It is not strange to see a mother with her newborn baby sitting and begging at the entrance to the subte/ metro station, or to see a father with his wife and children begging outside the steps of a church or to see men rummaging though the bins or sleeping at the entrance of popular store outlets. And imagine with temperatures as low as -1 degrees Celsius, one would begin to wonder, how on earth do these people keep warm at night!   

Pile of rubble that one can see homeless folks going through

Gustav, my friend I mentioned above, is in his 70’s and lives on the streets, a couple of blocks from my apartment on Uruguay street. He is by no means a lunatic, but instead one of the most humble and soft-spoken guys I have met in this city. I had to label my first encounter with Gustav as “ Homeless guy meets Spanish-less girl” and so I would practice my Spanish with him daily as I sat at the side of the street, both of us eating fresh portugals that I would bring for him everyday. I asked him once “ Porque estas en esta situación que se vives en la calle” (Why are you in this situation where you are living on the street) to which he said “ Circunstancias.”

Gustav and I

It was amazing to see how people looked at us as they walked down the street...they were confused as to why a well dressed  “Morocha” (and I’m the only morocha/ brown girl for miles in Buenos Aires), would be sitting and having a laugh with this homeless guy. I got stares, and every time I walked down the street with a friend and shook Gustav’s hands or hugged him, my friend would say in the most confused way, “ But you are friends with him?”  But sitting there with him each time showed me that there were people that did care...that would bring him some fresh empanadas from the store, and smile as they gave it to him and then they would smile at me…. Priceless moments indeed.

I got further involved with helping the homeless through San Nicolas, a parish and an organization dedicated to making change in the lives of underprivileged people in Buenos Aires. 

Cooking food for the homeless...trying to look cool knowing very well this is not my strength!

Every Tuesday and Wednesday, we would spend time combing the streets, distributing packages of food items, blankets and mingling with the homeless.

Carrying bags of food

 As they guzzled the food, we would sit there talking “ Como te va? Que hiciste hoy?, Ves algo interesante en la semana pasada?” (How are you going? What did you do today? You see anything interesting in the past week?)

They appreciated the fact the even though I was not Argentinian, I was there helping out, and I was trying hard to communicate with them in their native tongue. They were always interested in learning about where I came from. They thought I was Colombian or Brazilian, and when I explained to them that I was from Trinidad and Tobago, they became even more intrigued with learning more about this country and so I would sit there, drawing on the waste paper they got out of the garbage bin, where Trinidad was located and talking to them about my country: “ Es un país in El Caribe. Los país limfrofres son Barbados, Granada y Venezuela. Es muy cerca de Venezuela y es la isla mas sud en el Caribe. Trinidad y Tobago son dos islas pero un país. Trinidad es la capital industrial del Caribe porque de petróleo. Sin embargo, Tobago es una isla muy pequeña con playas lindas. Las playas tienen agua azul y arena blanca. Tienen mucho turista.  La capital es Puerta España y el país tiene un millón tres cien mil habitantes”  and so I would carry on the conversation as they asked about carnival, music, sports, the people, the economy.   

 (I have to thank my Spanish professor at the University of Buenos Aires for ensuring that I knew how to talk about my country!)   

They were always eager to learn and to share. They would show us their prized possessions which ranged from an old note book they got out of the bins where one drew very artistically on it, to pictures of their loved ones and family (very heartbreaking when they would show this), to a rosary, to a bottle of Coca Cola that they filled with soda from multiple, semi-filled waste bottles that people that discarded.

We have had many heartwarming moments, and we will continue to, until I leave this great city. They never pass me straight on the streets and always shout out “Mococha!“ from the other side of the street, and would wave with such enthusiasm.

I wanted to videotape some whilst they were talking about their circumstances, but they were not comfortable and I respected that.

To say the least, I will miss interacting with them but I will not miss freezing in -1 degrees Celsius!

 However as I end this blog, I wanted to leave readers something I pondered “ If some of these homeless people, were given possible opportunities that some of us had or have, would they not have made themselves into someone? (Now I am not debating that some would have truly had opportunities and either were not prepared to grab them or wasted the opportunity all together, but there are some that just truly did not have a break in life)

 And if so, if we were to look at everyone around us in our lives, from the garbage collector, to the gardener, to the cleaner, they too may not have been given the opportunities that we would have had…therefore, must we not treat everyone with the love and respect they deserve despite status? Think about it…

Teaching meditation to the girls at St.Jude's home for delinquent girls, Port of Spain, Trinidad.

I remember my first interaction with the girls at St Jude's home for delinquent girls 15 years ago when I was serving as a mentor to one of the girls. Imagine, a lost and confused 14 year old, trying to be a role model to a fellow 12 year old, equally lost and confused.  Amidst the mayhem of trying to deal with my teenage life, I did a poor job of being a mentor, but what remained with me were the words that a friend of my 12 year old "mentee" said to me..." She stood by that gate waiting for you every Saturday, with eagerness in her heart to see you again"

Those words and the ensued guilt for disappointing someone that needed my help, stayed with me for many years, until finally, through the gracious help of Monk Rinchen, I returned to St Jude's to make an impact on a bigger scale, and that's when the meditation classes began.

Meditation classes were held every Wednesday at the St Jude's home from 3.30 -5.00 pm, sometimes even finishing at 6 pm. Each class had a different flair each week, depending on the issue we were discussing in class. 

The general structure of the class started with what issues aroused during the week that we felt we could have dealt with differently, followed by positive affirmations depending on the issues discussed, then meditation practice, which varied from simple breathing techniques, to creative visualization, to the use of sound to soothe negative feelings. 

Whenever we did creative visualization, the girls were always eager to talk about what they visualized and how the visualization process made them feel.  One time, I remembered asking the girls to visualize and draw what peace meant to them, and there was one of the girls that drew a picture of her with a gun killing someone else!

I am happy to say, several classes later, that if I were to ask her now, what peace meant to her, she can visualize something totally different and positive.

The last 2 months in Trinidad, I began allowing each girl to run the class by themselves, with my presence of course, watching how they utilized each tool that I taught them. I must say that I was proud of each girl that made the attempt! My aim, was to get them to a place of doing this on their own without my presence! 

To my girls that excitedly came to class every Wednesday, thank you for sharing your life experiences with me, because just as I have made an impact on you, being in your presence every week, or whenever I could have made it, was certainly life changing for me. 

Some of my wonderful students are missing in this picture, but thank you to the girls that joined me on my last day of meditation class.

Here are some of the videos that some of my students did for me on the last day of our meditation class, two days before I left the shores of Trinidad.