Troy, my hero

Posted on Posted in Travelling

What a difference. I am in the rich part of the Island now. Sandyport. Everything very clean and tidy here. And probably twice the cost of what it is in the poorer part. A lot of boats here and surprise, surprise significantly more white people. At the first glance it doesn’t look like a touristy part of town but rather the place where the expatriates live. Businessmen and Retirees.
That feels strange, riding in a bahamian bus, full of black bahamians going to work just to end up at the most laid back place so far. Feels like a homecoming, I feel like I can tune in with both worlds.
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Not that I can really participate in the rich world, but I do get the mindset. I can tune in, in a way.
I have met people judging rich people just based on their money, pure jealousy in disguise. People who are content with themselves, who love themselves and have a gentle and kind soul don’t do that.
As hard as it is, if you wan’t to understand people in their own environment, tune in and listen. I spent the last night listening to a homeless man about his beliefs. This guy is a hero. He even gave another homeless man 2$ for buying himself some food. Saying “I don’t have it too bad”.
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The place he lives. You can see his bed in the middle of the picture and my stuff in the bottom left.
I don’t know what he does for work, he said he was an auto-mechanic earlier in his life and studies crazy lottery numbers in his free time. Such kindness. It makes me finally see how the blue spiral level works in his intended sense. Yes, I see the shortfalls but also see how it creates kindness and helpfulness. His faith gives him hope and stops the human nature of jealousy dead in its tracks.
Talking about the Bahamas and his life for quite a long time. He sais that it is so different for tourists. Bahamians learn from early age that tourists are the life-line of the Islands, taught to handle them with kindness and respect. This basicly leads to some sort of preferential treatment of the white man. Since most tourists here are Americans and most Bahamians are black.
He told me how the Islands used to have farms and plantations to grow their own food, but most of it is closed down and gets imported from the US now. Telling me about the “ghetto” which is here called “over the hill”. He sais he doesn’t even go there at daytime. Too dangerous. Murders, no perspective. A lot of people from the outer Islands stream into Nassau in search of a job.
I left him my small alcohol stove and my pots that have done their duty for close to 5 years in my service. Carried them through half of Europe, cooked awesome dinners in Spain with them.
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I am sure a specific someone remembers the efforts that it took to cook it…
But he needs them more like I do. He has enough to survive, for sure. At least this is what he sais. But he had no means to cook, now he has. Even if it is primitive.
I can buy stuff like this for 25€ off the Internet, it is hell of a lot more expensive here since it all has to be imported from the US.

This man is truly impressive and I have got the feeling to have learned a lesson from him. A lesson in kindness and trust. I wish him the very best for the rest of his life.

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