Indigenous Man, Indigenous Friends

Wonder... I came across this man twice, both times while I was driving along the coastal road of Pekan in Pahang. The first time, I drove too fast & missed the opportunity to photograph him. The second time, I decided to make a U-turn & stalk him & his canine friends for a shot. He didn’t have teeth. His companions were oblivious to that. They happily tugged at each other, constantly looking back at this man, walking slowly to his destination. He was scrawny, scruffy & perhaps, hasn’t taken a bath in months. He didn’t look too well fed. I wonder if he has had a meal at all. I usually carry individual packets of biscuits in my car. Sometimes even cakes & cookies. This time, my car was not well stocked as I had made way to transport stuff to the island. I wish I had some food to offer this man. The question that came to mind was, did this man have a place he could rest at night? We all would like to think so but how many of us would actually come forward to offer assistance to homeless people? Why are they homeless in the first place? Anyone missing a parent? He could well be yours. Do you know if your parents are feeling neglected??? I thought about one of my church’s ministry called Urban Food Sharing where all the cellgroups take turns on Saturday afternoons to cook lots of food & serve the urban poor & homeless in the backstreets of Pudu. The little Lorong (street) has become synonymous with people who live in makeshift shelter in cardboard boxes, using newspapers as blankets & plastic bags as rain shield. The homeless aptly calls it Yehso Kai, the Cantonese translation for ‘the street that Jesus lives.’ Our doctors would provide treatment & check ups for them while those present will serve them food & drinks while they open up to anyone who would listen to them. Many are homeless because they have run away from the old folks/nursing home that their children have put them in. To them, it is more dignified to live in cardboard boxes on rooftops than to suffer the humiliation of being thought of as an invalid. They would not contact their children because they feel so rejected. Many have turned to drugs. Some has agreed to go through rehabilitation. Some has not. My dad has not been eating & had been wasting away because he’s frustrated with life. With us probably but he’s never shown it to me. When my sister whom we have not seen for 6 years flew back from the States to see him, I made arrangements for Sam to hold the fort on the island. I needed to see my ‘big (used to be tyrant) sister’ whom I miss very much & was hoping that we would be able to talk him into eating. Just the night before leaving, Sam received news that his father did not regain consciousness after a heart bypass. My heart sank. With the mounting operational difficulties & tussle with the resort, having both our fathers in dire straits made us see that the trial is not over. We cried & cried out to the Lord that night. Equipment breakdown we can fix but life going out of a person, we can’t fix. I made frantic calls to friends in the same trade to come take over the fort so that Sam can return to see his father too. Several pleas later, Peter agreed to come & help us out for the weekend. So we headed home. Now two weeks later, my dad is starting to eat & Sam’s dad just came out of coma albeit a stroke in the midst of the operation that left him half paralysed. Our cries to God had been heard & answered.