Last night I was in a TucTuc (easiest way to describe it is a moped with a carriage attached) with some teammates when out of nowhere I said that I wanted to have lunch with a beggar. Facing beggars nearly everyday this year causes me to have a rough heart towards them…I decided it was time to stare it in the eyes and try to make some kind of difference, even if it is only to one of them. Matt quickly jumped on board, so today we went for it.
Vauhn was our friend for lunch. He is a man bound to a wheelchair, with at least one leg, the other was either missing or he was sitting on it and hiding it. We did our best at communicating with him our desire to take him to a restaurant of his choice. He quickly wheeled himself to a nearby restaurant with seating outside. Needless to say, it didn’t take long before we attracted a small crowd of curious people…two white guys sitting down at a table with a crippled man in Cambodia is NOT the normal thing to do. Language barriers were sure to be a problem here, so we did our best to get his name and age (he’s 25)…and then some locals helped us out from there. Vauhn was a quiet guy, but he would answer questions that were directed toward him. We found out that he has no family, and we think that his family died due to a bomb. We asked him about friends…none. We asked about a home…none. We asked about a government program to help…none. We asked if there is a shelter…none. The waitress at the restaurant was real nice and helped translate most of this as he ate some meal that he chose (I don’t think he can read either as he never looked at the menu no matter how hard I tried). Our crowd of random TucTuc drivers, shoe shiners, newspaper sellers, sunglasses sellers, and other random people were all interested in observing or helping with any conversation, usually seeking attention for themselves. I don’t know exactly what he ordered, it looked like rice with chicken curry, along with a coconut smoothie. It was a simple yet modest meal.
It didn’t take long for him to eat the meal, and with the language barriers and him being real shy, the meal didn’t last that long. There was no epic moment to remember, no trophy put on any shelf from this event. It was a simple day when this man got to eat more than the leftovers that some tourist decided to hand him instead of carrying it around. I don’t know how long he will remember us, or how often this happens for him, but I know that he ate at least one meal that day. I know that he at least had someone talk to him that day. I know that he was prayed for that day. I know that he experienced some love that day. Everyday will be a struggle for him, please pray for him, my friend Vauhn, who has nobody to turn to in his pain. Who will sleep on the streets tonight, hoping to find somewhere that he can escape the rain, who will wake up hungry, hoping that someone will be gracious to him. There is no homeless shelter, there is no government program to help, there is no business that will employ him, in most people’s eyes he has no hope…
