Every Wednesday night my neighbourhood is invaded by a crowd of trolley-pushing homeless people. Their activities involve scavenging through the dirt bins that people put out on the pavement in anticipation of Thursday morning’s garbage collection round.
Nobody begrudges them this. In fact, I often place obsolete computer parts or old household items at the top of the bin, knowing that they will find them long before the garbage truck arrives. My hope is that they will be able to get some use, or a small amount of money, from my discarded items.
My problem with these trolley people is far more personal. I am brutally rude to them at every opportunity. This is not because I hate them. Quite the contrary! I think that the living they make is good for the economy, and environmentally friendly to boot. I am rude to them because even the slightest attempt at politeness inevitably results in then asking me for money, clothes, food or any old stuff that I don’t want.
Seriously, if I had stuff that I didn’t want, they would be able to find it in the dirt bin. Except for money, of course. Money is something that I am unlikely to ever not want.
It isn’t a short conversation either. It usually starts with an elaborate ritual of enquiring after my heath, followed by the insistent and repeated requests for my stuff. Its really tiresome and it is always the same. The only way to avoid it is to cut them off as they start speaking, with a clear and brutal declaration of disinterest.
For example, I have just been enjoying a cigarette at the open front door of my home. I watched a trolley person slowly making his way down my street, pushing his collection of found items before him. As he passed my front door, he smiled and waved. I gave him a cheery wave back. He continued on for two steps, backed up two steps, and started heading towards me to ask for stuff. What was a moment of civilised camaraderie was instantly ruined.
This phenomenon is not confined to homeless people. During the recent FIFA World Cup, I visited the fan park on Cape Town’s Grand Parade. The experience was fantastic! There were a large number of people of all cultures, colours and geographic origins, all enjoying a night of solidarity.
I had conversations with two people of African heritage people during the evening. One was a very polite gentleman who discussed soccer with me at great length. Just when I thought that I had made a friend, he asked me if he could have the beer that I was drinking. The other tried to sell me a fake Brazil hat and pick pocketed my girlfriend.
I mean no disrespect to black people at all. I say “black” because I consider myself to be an African too, although I wouldn’t pass for one walking down the street because I am “white”. However, I wonder why it must be that the overwhelming majority of interactions that I have with black strangers I meet on the street land up in me being asked for free stuff. I’m not exaggerating when I say that this happens in at least 95% of interactions.
Please, guys, I would like you to understand some things. I do not hate you, and I feel guilty about giving you the impression that I do. I am also not made of money. If I had to give something to everyone that asked, I would soon be destitute myself. The only fair way to deal with this is not to give anything to anyone.
If you must ask, pick one thing and ask for it up front. Your part of the conversation should be along the lines of, “Hello! Can I have some old socks?” That is far more likely to be successful than wasting my time asking me how I am, commenting on the way the colour of my shirt flatters me and telling me a long story about your cousin before you get to business. If I do say “no”, move along and don’t bother me anymore. I might feel more charitable the next time you see me, provided that you have not irritated me. You should realise that I will remember you because you do not, as the rumour goes, all look the same to white people.
Since you probably don’t have an Internet connection, I intend to print out a few copies of this advice that I will provide to you when you bother me. Take this advice to heart, and understand that I am giving it because I actually like you guys and would prefer us to be able to interact in a friendlier way.
Finally, when I say “hello”, I am being polite and welcoming you to my neighbourhood. I am trying to convey to you that I am not a threat to you, and am pleased that you are not a threat to me either. Please don’t ruin it by trying to take advantage of me. Doing so makes a joke of everything that we are trying to achieve in this country.
