por Jim
When our bus from Valparaiso, a colorful and gritty port city, arrived back in Santiago, we transferred to the subway to get back to our current quarters. It was near the beginning of the line, so we got seats, but the train filled as it headed downtown. So no seats were left when a young, blind woman, carrying a purse and a shopping bag, was helped onto the train. The fact that she was assisted and given given a seat was unsurprising. But what happened next was enlightening.
She settled into her seat and folded her cane, then reached into her shopping bag and pulled out something that looked like a small boom box, which she set by her feet. Then she reached into her purse and pulled out a headset. I assumed she was going to listen to music despite the fact that her headset had a mike. Then she clicked on the box and began to talk, saying she hoped we were all having a good day and she wanted to sing us a song, which she then did -- more than competently-- with musical accompaniment from the box.
As she held out her hand, people began filling it with coins, which she sometimes acknowledged as the singing continued. People passed money from far ends of the car and more than filled her hand. She had sung well and done well.
But what happened next was more interesting yet. As she began to pull herself together, the women sitting next to her, opened the carrying bag and helped put the boom box away. The man sitting on the other side reached around and gave her the cane, which was on the seat behind her. All the while, people were distracting her by putting more money in her hand. When the train pulled into the station, her two neighbors helped her up and walked her to the door.
We've seen people ask for money on subway systems in several continents. A few days ago, in Argentina, the pattern was to stroll down the car and give a small item-- say a pocket calendar -- to each passenger and then to return and either take it back or take money. Most passengers were stoic and indifferent, allowing the item to be placed in their laps and then recovered Their response was not unlike the glazed eyes you often see in the New York subway when someone performs and/or asks for money.
But here in Santiago, the response seemed to be uniquely friendly and supportive. I don't know whether that says anything about Santiago or Chile or if she perhaps sung something with special resonance on the day involved. So I won't attempt to derive any greater lesson beyond saying it struck me as a reassuring message about shared humanity -- a reminder worth the price of admission.
When our bus from Valparaiso, a colorful and gritty port city, arrived back in Santiago, we transferred to the subway to get back to our current quarters. It was near the beginning of the line, so we got seats, but the train filled as it headed downtown. So no seats were left when a young, blind woman, carrying a purse and a shopping bag, was helped onto the train. The fact that she was assisted and given given a seat was unsurprising. But what happened next was enlightening.
She settled into her seat and folded her cane, then reached into her shopping bag and pulled out something that looked like a small boom box, which she set by her feet. Then she reached into her purse and pulled out a headset. I assumed she was going to listen to music despite the fact that her headset had a mike. Then she clicked on the box and began to talk, saying she hoped we were all having a good day and she wanted to sing us a song, which she then did -- more than competently-- with musical accompaniment from the box.
As she held out her hand, people began filling it with coins, which she sometimes acknowledged as the singing continued. People passed money from far ends of the car and more than filled her hand. She had sung well and done well.
But what happened next was more interesting yet. As she began to pull herself together, the women sitting next to her, opened the carrying bag and helped put the boom box away. The man sitting on the other side reached around and gave her the cane, which was on the seat behind her. All the while, people were distracting her by putting more money in her hand. When the train pulled into the station, her two neighbors helped her up and walked her to the door.
We've seen people ask for money on subway systems in several continents. A few days ago, in Argentina, the pattern was to stroll down the car and give a small item-- say a pocket calendar -- to each passenger and then to return and either take it back or take money. Most passengers were stoic and indifferent, allowing the item to be placed in their laps and then recovered Their response was not unlike the glazed eyes you often see in the New York subway when someone performs and/or asks for money.
But here in Santiago, the response seemed to be uniquely friendly and supportive. I don't know whether that says anything about Santiago or Chile or if she perhaps sung something with special resonance on the day involved. So I won't attempt to derive any greater lesson beyond saying it struck me as a reassuring message about shared humanity -- a reminder worth the price of admission.
No comments:
Post a Comment