One of the
predictable curiosities for expats living in Athens, Greece is the reality that
almost everyone in this town takes a holiday in August. Sometimes, it’s the
entire month; sometimes, it’s for two weeks; but, you can always count on very
little getting done in August because nearly everyone who is normally here is somewhere
else – on a sun-drenched island or a quaint village where great grandparents once
lived and where the family still maintains a house!
The already, painfully slow Greek bureaucracy moves even
slower during August. Mom & Pop
street-corner businesses close completely, their windows and doors locked and
shuttered down; the entire family is away, with signs left on the door wishing
potential customers “Kalo Kalokairi!” “Happy Summer!”
The ordinarily clogged, tiny streets are much easier to
navigate. Locating a parking space on my street in Pagrati is actually possible
in August!
Among the “closed
for holiday” businesses on my regular walking pathways, I have also noticed
that the beggars are absent. The very-tanned young man with scraggly hair
and dirty flip flops who ordinarily sits on a sheet of cardboard is nowhere to
be found. The pre-teen Roma girl who holds a sign reading “Peinao” (“I hunger”) in
one hand and, in the other, loosely cradles a crying, month-old infant with a
dirty diaper is absent. Her treasured spot in the shade is vacant.
It caused me to ponder: Do beggars take a vacation? What
do they do when not begging? Where do they go? Do they take their begging trade
to a holiday spot? Are people on vacation more or less likely to give money to
a panhandler?
While I am still searching for answers to those
questions, it occurs to me that all of us –including you and me - are actually
beggars of a sort! None of us, in our own right, earns the right to take a
breath or to have a thought. Every one of us stands before our daily existential
moments with our hands out, asking – yea begging – for another opportunity to
live, to think, to breathe, to give, to receive and to become. What one of us
has, in our own power, an inexhaustible supply of minutes to live and a
guaranteed lock on a fully developed
potential? Why is it that most of our prayers are selfish petitions, exposing us
as beggars, asking God for what we want?
We are all, I insist, like panhandlers in this perilous, penultimate
paradise of a world. While signs in the London Underground Metro warn that “Busking
is not allowed,” every person I know lives most of his/her life in
desperate need – of friendship, meaning, fulfillment, worth, legitimate
response and other essentials. Although it is rarely in the forefront of our
minds, all of us are very needy and unable, in our own strength, to meet
those essential needs. Like a person who uses credit cards to finance a
holiday, we travel about in our lives without knowing the full cost of our own
mortality and rarely stopping to give thanks to the “ground of our being” (Paul Tillich) who generously gives “every
good and perfect gift” (James 1:17) to us beggars.
“Hey,
buddy! Can you spare me a dime?”