The 35°c (95°f) Australian heat radiates onto their unprotected skin. Flies, mosquitoes and other mites scrounge through the waste, searching for food just as desperately as the people who left it there. With every day providing no surprises, and every night bringing more and more fights fueled by alcohol. This is the life for the homeless people in Australia.
The reputation of the Aboriginal people destroyed because people tend to focus on the drunk people, and thus loose the memories of the good ones. Racism towards the people is strong and racial division among classes are very apparent. However, I will never forget the day when despite all of this, one of these so called “Drunken Abo’s” took it upon himself to be the complete opposite of his racial stereotype.
The sun was almost directly above, the temperature almost at its peak, cars from all angles were driving into the parking lot of the local mall. I walked across to the sidewalk leading to the entrance, when I spotted a frail, old homeless man playing his didgeridoo with the upmost passion. It sounded amazing and so I wanted to tip him, but didn’t bring money as I was just going to hang out with a friend. However, I did have an unopened bottle of water in my bag, so I gave it to him, knowing that he’d need it. He stopped playing and briskly turned to look at me.
“Aye thank you so much brudda!” He yelled enthusiastically.
His small, brown eyes widened, his wrinkled mouth grew into a smile, showing the charcoal teeth that was previously hiding behind his lips.
“You’re welcome man keep up the great playing!” I encouraged him happily.
He shook my hand, and almost downed the whole bottle in one sitting.
“Thanks cadjup brudda!” He fair-welled with a smile.
I said my goodbyes and continued into the mall to hang with my friend. After a few hours, the sky was starting to glow a beautiful orangey/red, and the sun was almost completely gone, it was time to walk back home. I walked out the same exit in which I had entered, and to my surprise, I heard a familiar voice.
“Aya budda! Gives ahere real quick!” He asked.
I walked over to him and he slowly held out his closed, shaking hand. I gathered that he was trying to give me something, so I put out mine. He opened his hand, and $2.50 (aud) dropped into my hand.
“I’m sorry sir, but why did you give me $2.50?” I asked dumbfounded.
He smiled and let out a half laugh, half grunt.
“Aya it’s for the water budda! Merry Chrissmass aye?” He answered with a slight slur on his speech.
I couldn’t take his money as that was all he had. But he was so sure of himself about paying me back for the bottle of water. In the end, I kept it until the next day when I saw him again. I paid him back the money and gave me a smile. Everyone ignored him just like any other homeless aboriginal person they see. However, the fact that he still wanted to pay me back for the water proved that he had more of a heart than anyone else who walked passed him, not even batting an eye. I feel as though this story is a great example of true kindness straight from the heart, and that all people shouldn’t judge someone based of their race, gender, or beliefs. I’ve seen the man multiple times and have even jammed out to Pink Floyd with him. He is truely a great man, living a melancholic life.
About the Creator
Zythen
Article and Story Writer, Musician and Nanoscience student.
IG: @Zythen_writes
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