Bench Days

This is a bench. Not my bench, but similar. I like to sit on said bench and enjoy the world passing through the tint in my girlfriends Raybans (that's right, I'm that cool).

Today I say three ladies. One middle aged (daughter I assume), one in her 70's (neighbour/friend?) and one in her late 80's (mother).
The daughter wore bright purple and red coloured flowers on her shirt, blue running trousers and white running trainers. She was tall and a little rotund.
The friend wore a green shirt, black running trousers and black slip-on shoes. She was equally tall, but slim and sprightly looking.
The mother, sporting a rather interesting shock of white hair, interspersed by a strip of bald down the middle, wore a brown coat, black running trousers and white running trainers. She was short, but in shape for a lady of her years.

All were smiling, laughing loudly and surprisingly, were all walking at a decent pace.

I'd been reading my new book, but could hear them approaching for some time. Such is life here. It's often loud, chattering and jovial.

In contrast, a fella in green jogging shorts, clean yellow shirt and white jogging trainers approached me shortly after. He started talking, offered his hand to shake (which being an English Gent, I duly did) and at an initial glance could be seen to be just being friendly. This was not the case. This fellow wanted my money. Not that I had much (around R$6 in notes= £3). I sussed the fella quick smart though. I smiled, I did the puppy dog eyes, I said "Sorry, English...I er, don't understand" . At which point friendly, turned to the international language of sign and frustration. The fellow thrust his fingers in my face and began rubbing them together (Money foreign man-I want ya money!).

Well, you can want!

He wandered off, unimpressed and I sat there, equally unimpressed.

I miss being able to give to charity. It doesn't really exist here. There aren't any charity shops. Barnados, Oxfam, St Luke's...nope. It's sad. It's a missed opportunity for a nation that could and would benefit from it greatly.

There's the people that try to put their talents to good use at the stop signs. You stop at the Red light and they juggle. The problem being that due to crime and the implied drug use your money would inevitably find itself employed in, you don't even open your window. I want to give, but I'm advised it's not safe.

There is the homeless though, they like the benches too-usually lying horizontally across them, but they all seem to be employed in recycling or drug use too. Where to turn?

On a happier and slightly odd note...seems in Porto Alegre there is a lack of full sized mannequins.