In the midst of the bustle along Regent Street in this season of abundance and overindulgence, an old woman stood on the pavement and pleaded, “Please for a help.”
Anyone who frequents downtown Georgetown would hear this quite often from beggars. But there is something disturbing about seeing the outstretched arms of the elderly, watching the sadness in their eyes and hearing the desperation in their voices. She was at least in her eighties and possibly even nineties. My anxiety about being on Regent Street during this time of year always results in the quickening of my footsteps, and so I walked past her; but then compassion made me stop. I was cautious as people strolled and hurried; and swift because some pickpocket is often lingering nearby, watching the movements of unsuspecting victims, eager to snatch a purse, a phone, jewellery or anything of value.
As I walked away, she continued “Please for a help…”
How long would this old woman, who perhaps toiled and raised children and grandchildren, have to stand in the rain begging?. Where were her relatives? What became of her old age pension that was paid only last week? But then I thought about how little it is and that one trip for groceries or bills or other expenses could quickly exhaust it. Or did she have uncaring children who stole her money, which is the reality for many of Guyana’s elderly. Was she still helping to raise grandchildren? Or was she just an old childless woman with no relatives to help her? Did she not show compassion to others when she was young? Could it be that she did have children and grandchildren who cared and there was no need to beg, but she did it anyway? Alzheimer’s’? Habit? Could it be her way of conning people during this time of year when there is no need? Maybe the truth is that she was just an old woman who had a life of hardships; whose desperation led to her standing in the rain, on a Regent Street pavement, in the midst of what has been deemed as the most wonderful time of the year, begging that strangers have mercy on her by giving her cash?
I got to the place where I had to meet a friend. We talked about life’s struggles. We shared about events that threatened our sanity and stability. We shared about overcoming.
As she spoke, a voice in my head whispered, “This is an era of depression.”
My mind often wonders during conversations. Not too long before I had read about the seventeen-year-old teacher who died by suicide in Berbice. I reflected and shared tragedies that affected me throughout my life.
“An era of depression…” sounded a little louder in my head even as I scanned the faces of a few people nearby, wondering if they were well, and if they had thought about giving into the energies begging for our souls.
Those old people begging on the street should be in their warm homes on a rainy day listening to the radio, watching television or reading religious texts in attempt to make themselves right with their God before becoming ancestors. Young people should be excited about becoming adults and planning their futures.
But in this era of hopelessness and weakness, the mass awareness about the psychological struggles of man can be maddening; it is not comforting that all around we are witnessing the agony as people attempting to figure the meaning of life, our purpose and to find happiness.
A friend of my friend joined us. We began to discuss the cost of living in Guyana.
I voiced that many, if not most, Guyanese are not paid a living wage.
“Most Guyanese live above their means,” my friend voiced, “And we have a culture of begging.”
It was an interesting perspective as she shared about surviving the period when many items were banned in Guyana. Many children were malnourished, she said. During this era, many Guyanese migrated and because they knew the conditions in which they had left their relatives, the culture of remittances and barrels emerged. Thus, conditioning many to become beggars. The dependence on overseas relatives became a part Guyanese culture and remained so throughout the 90s, 2000s and up to where we are today. I am quite sure there were beggars before the hardships experienced and that there were barrels and remittances, even on a smaller scale, but what she said made me think. It was interesting that our conversation had led to talking about a culture of begging after my experience shortly before with the old woman, which I did not mention though I kept thinking about her. It reminded me that when we are self-aware and seeking to be in harmony with the divine how the universe delivers lessons for our learning and growth.
The conversation continued about the culture of begging and living above means. In this season of abundance and overindulgence, many spend all their money more on wants than needs. Many would splurge. Money would be spent on the latest fashion and fetes; some women would spend on hair, nails and make-up because it makes them feel worthy even though sometimes their basic needs and the needs of their children are not entirely met. Desperate to be relevant, to belong, to feel worthy and to keep up appearances however, they live in the moment.
Many homes are often overcrowded furniture and electronics, often acquired on hire purchase. Some are in competition every twelve months with neighbours to see who would have the best décor and new items.
Such habits seem odd to me. Perhaps because at Christmas I really only look forward to the food. I care not to decorate or splurge. I am conscious about not living above my means.
But when we are removed from the reality of the people whose life experiences are different, we should not judge. They are carving their path to finding their joy in this era of depression. If it is material possessions and their outward appearance that makes them feel valued, it is their journey to walk.
But often the errors in such choices develop into the begging culture. Many of the people who splurge during this season with no thought about the days or weeks after have to ask relatives or friends for help. Old habits persist and so for many learning never seems to take place.
The old lady stood in the rain begging openly. But in fact, her begging and the thousands of others who beg relatives and friends, is not much different.
In this era of depression and culture of begging, there is the desperate need to survive, to understand life and the will to make the best of it.
