the poor

Tolga and Gokhan too the kids to the mall.  I went for a walk in the light rain with Tuana - stopping at an ATM and a kirtasiye - a stationery store for some school supplies and back-up play-doh (for emergencies).

Walking down the road, a older man in trench coat, pointy shoes, and an suit - all looking like it was kept in good condition since 1980.  He greeted me and told me something about being locked out of a car, not having a bus pass, and how for is this road because he had to walk there.  I told him it was quite a ways to walk and he asked for money with apologies.

I looked him over again, I knew Tolga wouldn't like this, and even his story was suspicious, but I couldn't say no, because he was older, and he was desperate enough to ask.  He thanked me and offered to pay me back, and I told him instead to give it to another in need.

Walking back from the kirtasiye , I was still thinking about the man and his circumstances - wondering if he was hard up for money, or making a lot money on Sundays telling people the same story.  There is a lot of poverty in Turkey - between the gypsies, the refugees, the villagers, and simply those working full time but not getting paid, or getting underpaid.

Below our 10 floor apartment buildings, down the hill is a gece kondu - the night houses - called such because they were on land claimed illegally, built overnight, and always a crumbling mess.  This one's roof sagged, a shed to the side didn't have shingles, put a plastic sheet with heavy rocks broken cement to hold it in place.  The house had openings on the side, like compartments or closets - open to the elements outside and a wooden panel or sheet metal and a lock.  The walls were brick, half-smeared with cement, and I wondered why they walls were half smeared.  They ran out of money?  Just the top part was important?  The home didn't have one window on it, but painted on the three was a phone number and the advertisement "We move couches."  I wondered if Tolga's let them move our couch.  Probably not.  I wondered if they'd actually carry our couch down from the 9th floor.  I wondered if we'd pay them more or less than normal for their work - if it was legal or not, and if we'd actually be helping them or hurting small businesses.

I saw once past the house there was one window after all - it was stuck on the roof as a skylight.  The poor as always with us.  All around.  And I don't every want to stop being thankful and giving for what we have.