Wherever I travel, I pay attention to the beggars in the streets.
It shows the mood of the city and the situation of the country.
In Armenia, many people are living in poverty. But probably because of the pride for their country and in themselves, there are many fewer beggars in the streets than you would expect.
On my recent late-summer visit, I saw few beggars, mostly men and women in their late eighties, early nineties, almost no teeth, and heavily wrinkled faces that witness their suffering.
Some years ago I wrote in this newspaper about an old woman who was selling little bouquets in the streets. I gave her money once, but I did not want to take the flowers since I was staying in a hotel. She grew very upset. She was not a beggar, she told me indignantly. She insisted she was working in all honesty and earning her living. She said she did not accept charity. I told her that I did not have a flower vase in my room. She still insisted that I take the flowers.
Every day I saw her in a different street, walking and selling her bouquets. I admired her courage and spirit. In August I saw her again with her little bouquet of flowers. She was walking the streets of Yerevan, selling her flowers.
Her face looked the same, with a few new wrinkles. Her hair had turned completely grey. Her courage and spirit shined brightly.
I Beg Your Pardon
In Paris, I went to Avenue Victor Hugo where I had seen a “clochard” (a drunk homeless), lying on one of the fancy streets.
Years ago this was not unimaginable.
Yet I saw him year after year. His presence gave me hope. When I saw him for the first time, I felt badly for him. I was sure he would not live long sleeping in the streets in winter under rain and snow.
Sometimes he would occupy the only public phone booth when the weather was too cold. He had six packs of beer, a bottle of wine as food and drink lined up around him. It was so sad to see him spreading all his few belongings around him and even use the streets for his needs, there was always a wet stream going down from him directly to the street curb. Year after year I saw him at the same spot.
I told myself dying was not as easy as I had thought. That gave me hope for life.
In Champs Elysees, the most popular street in Paris, there was a young woman who sat on her knees all day. Her head was covered with a scarf. She never spoke or looked up.
Her gaze was down toward a cup that was collecting the donations. I walked many times up and down the street and still she remained in the same position at the same spot day after day.
How could she, a young, energetic woman, remain in such an odd position for hours? How were as her knees reacting? Did not she need water or food to drink? Did not she need to go to the bathroom at least once a day? Even the brave members of the British guard of Buckingham Palace, who do not move or talk. change many times during the day.
Or maybe these are duplicates of the same person for replacement when needed!
(To be continued)
Dr. Rosemary Hartounian Cohen, who lives in the Fairfax District, received her Ph.D in sociology from the Sorbonne in Paris. She lived in two other countries before moving, with her husband and four children, to Los Angeles in 1984. She has published four books in America. Since 1985, she has operated Atelier de Paris, an international art business, on Robertson Boulevard. Her email address is Rosemary@atelierdeparis.com.
