Homeless

Couple of years ago, I stopped by Hyde park on Holy Thursday after mass at St. Mary's. I was young, impatient, angry and confused. Mass had calmed me down somewhat but there was something missing. Something hollow. As I sometimes do, I wandered about to clear my mind. I saw a bunch of homeless men playing chess by the benches. I'm not quite sure what it was that compelled me to walk over, but I did. They were disheveled, unkempt and ragged. Toothy grins and jaundiced. (Think Fagin from Oliver Twist). I sat down next to them and watched the chess game. I'll admit in some part of my mind I wondered if I'd get mugged, or beat up, or one of those morose scenarios.

They looked at me and kept playing.

The conversation was...surprising. It wasn't shallow drivel. Sometimes when you're with your friends you talk cock...and laugh and horse around. But it was deep conversation. There was religious dispute, "All religions are the same mate...they tell you to do good, regardless who you believe in." There was conspiracy theory, "Sonny Liston was big, like a bear! No way Ali could have knocked him out with one punch...the mafia was involved..." Politics, Human Interest, Finance, Economics anything...you name it. They were from all walks of life..Australian, German, Filipino. And they were bloody good at chess.

I tried my hand at a couple of games...I got outclassed of course, completely destroyed. But they wouldn't let me go till I won a game. Patiently they tutored me. Teaching me to think laterally...to see moves and steps ahead. I know its starting to sound like more idealistic drivel, but honestly right, these guys were brilliant! I was completely dumbfounded as to how they were homeless...I mean I know you're going to get good at chess if thats the only game you play all day, everyday, but they were well informed, surprisingly eloquent and managed to articulate their thoughts with clarity.

While I was struggling along against Ben (the Filipino dude - who was whupping me minus a rook and a bishop), The Australian bloke (I forget his name) got up and said, "Right...gotta head to the bottle-o (liquor shop)...won't be open tomorrow, public holiday." Quarter of an hour later he was back with wine in tow and steaming hot pizza...four slices. I was losing the next match against Chessmaster 2007 (the German guy - Fritz). When Ozzie bloke passed around the pizza. I looked at him with this puzzled expression, and he goes to me, "Eat up mate, its late, cold and you're never going to win if you don't have food in ya."

A homeless man was buying me dinner. I knew the guy for little more than 2 hours and he's bought me a slice of pizza without a second thought. He's clearly not the richest bloke on the block, I was decently dressed (Sunday best la...church marr), so he knew I wasn't homeless. But what takes me, is that they share what little they have amongst themselves and anyone they call friend.

I beat Ben a couple of games later, and they all laughed, gave me a pat on the back and went back to debating the current economic situation. I remember this clearly because Fritz commented on the commodities boom, the property bubble and how it would soon burst.

I sat there for close to 6 hours, till 12-ish...and time just flew by. There was interesting conversation, camaraderie, laughter among other things and acceptance. They always say don't judge a book by its cover, but sometimes you can't help but do so. That being said, one of my everlasting memories of Sydney will be the selflessness of that homeless man in offering me pizza. I took it. Now, now! Before you condemn me for mooching of a hobo, let me first say...every man has his pride. And even in the confines of a park, you want to be as hospitable as possible to your "guests".

How many people walk past them everyday throwing looks of disgust or pity their way? I guess sometimes you just want to be treated like a normal human. Without being patronizing, or condescending. As equals. Not all of them are there by choice. Extenuating circumstances and other factors contribute sometimes. And maybe I had the opportunity to meet the few who're exceptional. I still stop by sometimes, on my way to church and after. Or when I'm walking past Hyde park. I still get trounced at chess. But Ben's gone....noone knows where he is...and I hope he is fine wherever he is. Thank you for showing me that friendship is sometimes forged in even the most peculiar circumstance. And thank you for teaching me not to judge. May God keep you safe in his hands always.