I’ve got a friend in Cambodia who is making a difference. A big and lasting difference.


That’s quite the legacy. Now granted, I don’t know anything about his financial resources other than to say he worked for me on and off for the past twenty-five years or so. Which is to say, he didn’t get rich working for Uncle Sam. He’s no Biden after all! So, his generosity is all the more impressive. Well done, sir!
Now I on the other hand like to pretend to be a caring and giving person. Sure, I’ll help someone I know out of a tight spot occasionally. Throwing out the equivalent of fifty or a hundred dollars now and then isn’t going to change the world though. Hell, it doesn’t even make a lasting difference for the people I’ve helped. It makes me feel good to know that I fed “mama” for the night or that Ester won’t be getting evicted (this month anyway). But that’s chump change really and I’ve acknowledged before that what I’m really doing is selfishly buying some peace of mind for myself.
But it gets worse, or should I say that I do. Lately, I’ve been losing patience with some of those continually begging for my assistance. One of the downsides of my beachside stool at Mango’s is that there is nothing separating me from the souvenir vendors who ply the sandy shore searching for suckers tourists. I try to be friendly and polite with them but I’ve made it clear I have no interest in the trinkets they are selling. I’ve helped one guy out a couple of times when he said he needed milk money for his daughter because after walking all day he had found no customers. I’ve given him advice along the lines of the tourists won’t be back anytime soon and that you are a healthy young man and need to pursue another line of work. Hell, he could ask the hotels if he could rake the littered beaches for them. He nods and says he understands, but every day he is back. So, I gave him another 100 pesos ($2.) last night but told him not to expect me to continue doing so. It is not my responsibility to feed your daughter. He smiled and took the money then went on his way. I’m sure I’ll be seeing him again.
Not long afterward yet another vendor comes and obstructs my view. I didn’t recognize this one but he didn’t want to take no for an answer. I finally had to get up and move to the inside bar to avoid a confrontation I knew I’d regret. I told the bartender they should really not allow the vendors to harass customers but by then the guy had moved on. When I came back to my regular stool I saw him a bit down the beach and he waved and smirked at me. I raised my hand to give him the finger but then lowered it again. He ain’t worth it.
So, what is my problem really? What’s a dollar or two to me when I’m dealing with people who from all appearances have nothing? The best I can come up with is I don’t like being played for a sucker. I gave the one guy some pesos, he tells his friends, and the next thing I know they are swarming around the fool who gives away money for nothing. I don’t want to be that guy. When I give it is in a time or place of my own choosing. I don’t want to be shamed or guilted into giving money to people whose true needs I can’t be sure of. Mostly, I want to be left alone to enjoy my beer, and once you have outed yourself as an easy mark that ain’t gonna happen.
But wait, there’s more. Not long after the vendor incident, I got a message from Nikole, the woman he does my weekly massage. She told me her daughter was sick and she needed a 1000 peso advance to buy medicine. I responded that I was sorry to hear that but I had no way to get her the money. She said I’m in Barretto now. So I told her I’d meet her out in front of Mango’s. This was the third time she has asked for money from me, both of the previous requests I declined. Harder to say no when a sick child is involved (if that was truly the case). Still, it pissed me off. So, when she walked up I handed her the money and told her, this is not an advance, it is your severance pay. She asked me what I meant and I told her it means you are fired. Then I turned and walked away. She messaged me later that she was very hurt to be fired and that she was crying. That working for me was a big help for her kids. I haven’t answered her messages.
I do feel shitty about it though. I overpay for the massage as it is, I don’t want to be hounded for money when I’m out trying to enjoy myself. Now, my friend Ester had hinted around that she would like to add meat products to the vegetable stand she opened but didn’t have the money to do so. I ignored her hint. She also said she is hoping to be called back to work at Alley Cats soon. Well, last night I found out that Alley Cats has hired a new girl which is reprehensible when you have at least three women thinking they will be getting their job back “soon”. That pisses me off and makes me not want to patronize the bar again. I’m planning to go for darts today but that may be my last hurrah there. I’m also toying with the idea of starting up some darts tourneys in a different bar. Just out of spite. We’ll see.
Anyway, I’ve been feeling guilty today so I sent Ester a message asking how much she needs to add the meat business to her stand. Yeah, I need to buy myself another dose of peace of mind.


I know I promised photos from yesterday’s hike but I think this post has gone on long enough. I’ll share them with you tomorrow though. I promise.
She calls out to the man on the street
“Sir, can you help me?
It’s cold and I’ve nowhere to sleep
Is there somewhere you can tell me?”
He walks on, doesn’t look back
He pretends he can’t hear her
Starts to whistle as he crosses the street
Seems embarrassed to be thereOh, think twice, ’cause it’s another day for you and me in paradise
Oh, think twice, ’cause it’s another day for you
You and me in paradise
Think about it




















































































































































