Capitalist America: Homeless people
I had noticed countless beggars and old souls on the streets of America during my visit in 2018, the country had longed to visit since had longed to visit since my childhood. Homeless people craved for a dollar or some cents to eat some food and drink. People on wheelchairs waiting for some humble faces at hotels, shops and restaurants;some of modern day nomads having all their luggage with them, they were homeless and headless.
Millions of people work in the USA under the minimum wage (eg. cashier, sales person in Walmart, McDonald’s) and other large corporations who make huge profits yet they pay less than US$10 per hour to their workers; these wages are not enough for anyone to rent a house.
I happened to meet Peter Hyen on June 15,2018 around 6:30 pm in the Goodwill Shop in Austin, Texas. We exchanged smiles and when I asked what he does do for a living, he said that he worked under supervision of his son in a construction business. As I observed him, his clothes were smeared with daily dust, a packet of cigarettes in his pocket was nodding that it was his only luxury, his boots as old as a drooping ageing skin.
When we discussed the suffering of humankind around the world, he was highly optimistic that peace would prevail someday. He believed in co-existence with other fellow humans, despite race and religion. I asked him how he had seen Great America, he said that as many as 5 to 6 black people were killed by Austin Police every year. I asked him whether he used to cry, to which he responded that he used to every day, which brought relief to him.
He lived alone, he had a small home that was his only asset. He didn’t have any health insurance, he had to work to enact his health insurance policy, otherwise he would be peril.
I asked him if he’d read JD Salinger’s “The Catcher in the Rye”, my favorite book, and he said,” yes I have read his book.” I asked about JD Salinger because he was sick of the American phony life, hating fame and the limelight who retired to the countryside, never to return to city life, completely abandoning public fame and life. Then we discussed other authors like Mark Twain and Hemingway.
I asked him if he was given any social security or any old age package, and he said that the government gave him 1,000 dollars a month, which was not sufficient in comparison to the cost of living. He couldn’t meet his expenses; he had to earn a living through labour. His favorite drink was High Miller Beer and he used to go a bar every Tuesday to drink and enjoy himself.
It was not long before we both had to bid farewell to one another. I gave him a tight hug and his eyes welled up with tears. That’s how we ended our conversation. I hope that one day I bump into Peter again as he didn’t not keep any mobile.That’s the true face of capitalist America.
