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My Shoes Too

I was sitting at my computer in the tent yesterday, and looked out the little window beside me. All I could see were feet going by, because the window is so low. I recognized the shoes of Luc, the Belgian medic with B-FAST. But I knew they couldn't be his feet, because he had left. Then I realized one of the local guys was wearing them, and that Luc had given the shoes to him. When I packed for this trip, I brought four used shirts that I bought at the Ropa Americana store in Puyo--shirts that I could use, then give a way when I left.

This morning, as I was having some coffee and cereal in the doorway of the 'net café, Rahman came up and sat down. Rahman is one of two local men who are working around the camp. He pointed to my shoes, and said something. Jonathan, who was sitting across the tent, told me that he wants my shoes when I leave. I looked at Rahman, and told him I need them, because they were my only pair. Well, they are the only pair I brought on this trip. How many of us have just one pair of shoes? I told him that I have some shirts I will give him when I leave. That seemed to be OK, but he kept coming back to the shoes, pointing at them and saying he wants them when I leave. He asked me how much they cost, and I was embarrassed to tell him. He said, "You can buy another pair when you go to America." I really wasn't wanting to give the shoes away, but I felt a tugging at my heart that maybe it was what I should do. I tried to imagine myself making the trip back to Quito in my sport sandals.

With Jonathan interpreting, I started asking Rahman some questions. He is living in the IDP (indigenous displaced persons) camp next to the UN base camp. His home was destroyed in the tsunami, and he lost his six month old daughter, and another relative in the waves. He is 47 years old, and his wife is 37 years old. They have six surviving children. This man lost everything he had, and is living in a tent on a muddy field. I tried to tell him how sorry I was about his loss. But words aren't enough. We sat and spent some more time together, and then he went back to work.

When I leave, Rahman will be wearing my shirts, and he will be wearing my shoes too.