One thing about living in the city, living near everything means I live near EVERYTHING!  I do a lot of walking. Salt Lake City is a pretty laid back city for walking around, even on a Saturday but I have yet to go for a walk and not have a conversation/interaction with someone that I believe is homeless.  I'm not bothered by this. I'm never scared, but after these interactions I walk away and my mind and heart feel heavy.  

Most of the time the interactions are limited, maybe a "hello" "how are you".  One day I was informed in front of the Catholic church that pigeons once cleaned and fried taste just like fried chicken.  I thank him for the information and I skipped letting him know that I was a recent convert to the vegetarian clan.

I have come to know the corners, shopping areas, and parking lots where they will do their panhandling.  When I walk by I make eye contact, try to give a friendly look and go on my way.  I'm always flooded with thoughts.

On today's walk I was approached by a gentleman asking for money.  He had a story and I felt for him, but he didn't make a lot of sense in his ramblings.  He started off talking about how he worked at the VA (I'm thinking he meant he goes to the VA), that they (him and his wife, his wife was over across the street at the Burger King so I didn't actually see her) couldn't get in to any shelters.  He has some medical problems and I could see he did have something going on with swelling in his legs/ankles (he was a skinny man so it was obvious that there was swelling) and his hand was good and swollen also.  According to him he punched a Mexican in the mouth for disrespecting his women.  Commendable but now he seems to have a useless hand.  

So he had some visible issues but I'm banking he had more mental ones to go along with them.  They just needed some money so they can get a room, a bed, get cleaned up, and take care of some marital business that they haven't been able to in awhile.  He says he's been in SLC for years and never has been homeless or had to ask for money.  By the looks of him, I wonder if he's lost track of time.  I told him that I wished him all the best but I had nothing to give and off I went.  

Off I went to my apartment, with food in the fridge and hot water.   

I am saddened by the disparities.

I find it sad that you can not trust people.  You can't trust people who come to you in need. In India we were briefed not to give to anyone! Not to the children, not to the women with a baby on her hip asking for money so she can buy milk for her baby, no one, no how.  Nine times out of ten it's a sham.  The children are working for someone else, the money does not go to their family or to food it goes to a rich pimp.  The money for the milk will never reach the baby's lips.  Most people in the U.S. won't give to the panhandlers because they feel as though the money just goes to drugs or alcohol.  I've heard of working people, dressing as homeless and panhandling because the money was good.

It seems as if we all toe the line of the norms of society.  We are all a lost job, a mental break away from being homeless.  It may be over simplified but look at how may people lost their jobs and their homes with the economy?  Then, once homeless it seems like it's a struggle to get back into society.

While in Hawaii I picked up this book at the library, Land of the Lost Souls.  It's about a homeless man in the city.  He had a wife, kids, a good job and then little by little it was gone and he was living on the streets.  He was too embarrassed to ask for help from friends and family and then, well it was just easier to be on his own.  He didn't panhandle, he collected and recycled cans.  That was his job and it was enough for him.