Living in a different country has put me in an almost
constant uncomfortable and awkward state. I have learned to embrace these
moments and do things that a friend of mine coined were my “social experiments.”
Looking at the situation as a third person, just letting whatever comes to my
mind flow out, greeting every person I pass (this is a good one when there is a
big mixture of cultures), let myself get as awkward as I can get or see how the
next person reacts if I just don’t lose eye contact (very different reactions
doing this in Jamaica vs. doing this in America).These are things I’d never
done in America and have adapted out of my discomfort (and growing
self-confidence? growing boredom? growing “not giving a shit” ? –refer back to ‘Everybody Seems to Think I’m
Lazy’). My favorite is a mixture of making a new (usually) one time friend and
going with the flow. Sometimes this turns out alright, but sometimes I end up on
amazing adventures or listening to an extraordinary life story. This last one
was my experience today.
I really wanted to share this man’s certain story and I
started and deleted what I wrote because it’s not mine to tell and I could
never share it the same way he did. All I can share is my story of hearing his
story. It was one of those stories that could be made into a novel, become a
part of Oprah’s book club then become a movie based on the book based on a true
story and then everyone would read and question if it was real. Seriously.
Jamaica runs on route taxis that go from point A to point B
and it can take several taxis and buses to get anywhere. I was at one transfer
point and walked around to find an ATM to get cash for the rest of the trip. I
passed what I was looking for and a man on a ledge, that I had overlooked, called
out “miss, a wah yuh look for?” There it was; I had to just turn my head. I
went in, got just a little cash and when I walked out I laughed with the man on
the ledge about how I had missed what I was looking for because I was looking
in the other direction. He had a slight Canadian accent, he had a cast and
crutches and he was dressed in ragged clothing. He asked me if I could buy him
something to eat (normally I don’t give out money or buy things, but I won’t go
off on a tangent) and there was something about how he held himself that I felt
no pity for him, despite how he looked, and I agreed to buy him something. He
seemed very honest, very self-aware, very un-self-pitying, again, despite the
way he looked. He told me that an accident forced him to pee through a catheter
and that he was writing a book about his life. I agreed to buy him lunch if he
would tell me about his book and his life story.
He was born in Jamaica, taken to Canada as a child, got into
drug trafficking then scamming and made lots and lots of money. His best friend
and girl fell in love so they ratted him out and he got sent to prison and
deported. He had boats and money in Jamaica and would go scuba diving and spear
fishing. His oxygen tank went out at 110 feet and by the time he got to the
surface, to the hospital and into a decompression chamber he had lost the use
of his legs. Several years went by before he could walk and several of his
organs never recovered. He now lives day by day and doesn’t know where his next
meal will come from or how he will get fare to make it to the hospital to
change his catheter every other week. Just recently he got hit by a car and
broke his leg and when he went to follow up on the report it turned out that
the man had paid off the police to get rid of the report. His life now is
getting that injustice cleared, going to the hospital and living at the beach.
He neither bragged about what he had had nor pitied what his
life had become. He just accepted it as it is. He told me how had been begging
money at a gas station and a white man noticed his slight Canadian accent and
asked where he was from and then recognized him. He was the officer that had
arrested him for scamming. The man on the ledge laughed. He laughed so hard at
this incredible coincidence and said that he had no ill feelings towards that
man because he was just doing his job and that he respected him for that
because he deserved it and because of his own experiences with corrupt police
in his own country.
I believe his story and even if it is all made up it doesn’t
matter because it’s a good story. Years ago he’d probably have been a horrible
person to meet, but now he has something more to share than money and material
things. A fistful of humbleness punched him in the face and now he has an
amazing story to share and he shares it in such a real way. If anyone sees this
man in or around Discovery Bay I suggest talking to him.
