One issue that absolutely breaks my heart in Argentina is that there are a lot of beggars. Not in the sense that they are on the corner of the street begging for money. But they come to your table while you are having a coffee and they ask for coins. Or, they place a playing card or a little trinket that they are selling on the table, and then walk away. If you dare touch it, you must pay for it. What makes it worse is that mothers sit at a distance away and send their children to beg for them, hoping that a child’s face is better than a larger woman with about 3 children in her arm. It is something that is common in third world nations, but it still really hurts to witness.
The center of Mendoza is one of my favorite places in the city. There is a lot of life, great restaurants, delicious ice cream and lots of opportunities to find English speakers. There is a huge plaza (Plaza Independencia) that has charm and lots of activities to do. Only downfall is, because it attracts so many people, it can be slightly dangerous at certain times of the day (during siesta) or at night (after 1 am). Lots of kids who either do not live with their family, ran away, got kicked out of their houses, or are sent to the Plaza by their family to get some money tend to just live in the Plaza. They usually just holler or beg from some coins.
There is one boy, no way is he more than 10 years old, that I like to call “bichito,” or “little bug.” I would not be surprised if the Plaza was his residency because I see the kid there or in the center all the time. (The only factor that makes me believe he possibly has a home is that his shirt changes on a somewhat bi-weekly basis.) He is a beggar. Although, because he is always on his own, he is slightly more animated. He’ll have conversations with you, which seriously make you wonder what happened in his life that he ended up standing on the side of your table asking for coins.
What really upsets me about him though is the kid is obviously asking for coins for something…I’m afraid drugs. I have asked him multiple times if I can get him something to eat and he refuses. Even from some of the nicest places in the center! Maybe he is trying to stick it to “the Man,” and not assist commercialism in Argentina. But, at the same time, I think it is drugs. Or maybe his Mommy forces him to beg to get her coins so that she can use the bus to get to her “job,” whatever it may be. The kid confuses me.
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