Something that has been bothering me for a while has been the travelers that live on the streets here. Poverty is nothing new to me or new to the world, and poverty exists in every country. But what I have been noticing more as I have grown up into adulthood is how poverty is treated. I had very little knowledge of what was going on in the world around me until I left the country and really looked at what was going on.
Its my opinion that we (we as Americans) are raised to feel uncomfortable by homelessness, by extreme poverty. We turn our faces away from beggars, and bums - eye contact is forbidden. It is seen as dirty, like you can catch homelessness. These people are pushed to the edges of society, living on the fringes. A place that has the homeless living there is not ok. Towns don't like it as it would sully their perfect white picket fences. And as always - all homeless people are a danger to those around them. Many people have done studies on the anti-cultures created by homeless in America, or the Underworlds where these people have mayors, rules and bylaws. These mini societies are even explored in popculture - featured in an episode of the TV Show Bones and Tabboo. When I was driving through Jersey to New York children knocked on my car window while their mom's sat under umbrella's chatting. No doubt, something they did every day. It is a way of life for them.
If one were to make eye contact with a gypsy, it is an invitation to them to come over. Just this afternoon I was sitting on the steps to the Duomo eating my gelato and people watching, and five different gypsies came up to me to ask for money. I know I look American and so I am an easy target. The quickest way I know how to disengage the situation is to look away, and not acknowledge their existence, which is totally contrary to everything I believe in. When it comes down to it though, at least here, if you engage a gypsy they wont leave until they get what they want. My freshman year some of the girls from my building gave a gypsy a plate of food, she camped outside our front door for the next three months. As selfish as it may seem, every time a gypsie approaches me, I think of me. Of my life and my choices, if I had been born to a gypsy family would this be me in a velvet skirt and a picture of my three children? This woman especially gave me pause, she looked to be about 5 months pregnant, with supposedly five other children that are hungry at home. She can't feed them and has no way to care for them.
Children are often seen running around begging, when I was on the train from Rome a small boy ran up and down the cars holding his adorable little sisters hand passing out a piece of paper that says in Italian that they were hungry and didn't have a next meal. I had a nice conversation with a woman from London who was visiting, about what to believe about beggar children and gypsies.
Oh course there are also the regulars, the beggars I see every day on my journey through the city.
There is a woman on the Ponte Veccio who will give good fortune blessings to anyone who parts with a coin.
On the next street over, a man sits prone, knee's bent, head down from 8am until 5 pm every day.
There is a band of traveling circus folk, there are never in the same spot but you can see them periodically throughout the city.
Across the street there is man who sits with his dog.
There is the man in the wheel chair, he once parked himself in front of me as I walked down the street so I offered him my apple from my bag on which he promptly spit.
I used to think that these people were just separate entities, but after really watching them I have grown to see the dynamics and the territories. Each person has an area that they stick to, and defend against other gypsies and beggars. There are clans and alliances. If you really look you can spot who is with whom. Its actually really fascinating to think about this microcosm of people who live in this city. Of course beggars and gypsies aren't the only ones on the streets.
Here in Florence there are also the women who emigrated from Asian countries for work. I was sitting on a bench with my sister while she was visiting and this woman wouldn't leave us alone. She kept insisting that we buy one of her scarves. I am sure my sister thought nothing of it, but I could see the desperation in this woman's eyes, and I am sure that she hadn't had much luck that day. But a homeless man (named Pierre) came over and chased her away, mostly by smiling and trying to shake her hand. He then told me some interesting stories. He lives in a camp site with many other homeless men, who have made up a makeshift homestead. The woman who is selling scarves on the street only makes a euro off of each scarf(maybe) that she sells, and that the scarves that are made - are made in a sweat shop in Prato. According to him there are hundreds of these shops all over Italy that are used to create "cheap" tourist merchandise. Any person who is selling these scarves or items on the street, gets them from sweat shops. I asked him then, where to buy a scarf that is not made in such a manner, and he said the most interesting thing. Are any of them really made ethically? We then parted ways as his friend was waiting for him under the bridge.
Stories like this are common, like the man I met selling hats. He has to buy all his merchandise a head of time which he can't afford, and lives off of maybe two or three euro a day for himself and to feed his whole family. And he is glad for that money he does get. He said things back in Africa were so much worse. He is sending he two children to school and hopes that one day they would be able to have so much more.
The gypsies, I have much less sympathy for, their lifestyle of begging being more cultural than of need, I have seen gypsy women taking their children out with them, and saw a mother taking her daughter out and showing her the "big leagues" or the highly populated tourist areas.. I want to know what inspires them, is this what they want to do? Do they have other aspirations? Or is this the only way they know how to live?
There are a thousand and one more stories like this from just this one city. I could tell you so many more I have heard this past year. All of them break my heart. And yet, nothing I do can make a difference in helping them right now, I can volunteer at shelters and food pantries. But in the end does that really solve any problems? I don't know, all I do know is that everyday, I make more connections and figure out a little more how the world works, and I am not sure I like it.
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