Walking back from the grocery store today, I reflected on the smells, sights and sounds that we've synced with here.
I took a few pictures , noting a few surprising scenes that are usual now. However, I could not capture the rhythm of life (at least not with a camera phone and inconspicuously), the beauty in the daily grind, the shared smiles, the laughter, the chatter of street vendors and the joy at knowing your little part of the world, finding our place in a community here.
Captured from a distance, here are sights on that short walk.
I am not sure why this structure was originally built, but now several families have moved in, literally living their life on the streets but as you pass and they are cooking meals, it strangely has a homey feel. I don't know how long they will stay before someone moves them. Not in the pictures to the right is a tarped structure, probably 3 feet high where people sleep.
As you round the corner, the banana and orange vendors negotiate behind bright wheelbarrows.
And then, subconsciously, I hold my breath and walk quickly past the dumpsters, usually there are a few people rifling through them, sometimes it looks like they are paid workers to haul it away, other times, hungry bellies drive individuals, young and old to rifle through at hopes of food of something of value.
And with our corner in view, you can see the back of this elderly man, with his home. He sleeps on the raised platforms under tarps. During the days, he neatly arranges the tarp, just like he is making a bed of sheets and a comforter. The blue bowl sits on top of the bed as he prepared his food in a bucket under the umbrella, waiting for the afternoon rain that comes.
Rounding the corner, it's our street! We live down a ways on the right side.
As I write these words with the rain pouring down on our tin roof, creating a cozy feel, sights that I passed by and photographed only an hour ago sicken me now. How have I passed by so many times and never learned their names?