6 Hours Later, I Cried
	I see many forms of poverty in Mali, which is the 4th poorest country in the world. Delapidated housing, shredded clothing, filth and excrement in some streets, few remaining teeth  in middle aged people, and beggars. There are many types of beggars. A few cannot be distinguised from most other people. I saw one beggar child in Bamako who was actually good looking, with a smile on his face. Most are very dirty with wornout clothing and some form of pail or can to receive handouts in. Some beggars are blind. Many times I have seen young boys or women walking from person to person, with a blind person following them, hand to shoulder, so as to be lead.  The blind person is often chanting a prayer in Arabic as a way to solicit handouts.  In Markala, where I live, there has been a recent appearance of a group of 4 men, 1 with vision and the 3 others being lead by him, hand to shoulder.  They sing chants in harmony, very pleasant sounding, usually around dinner time when I eat next to the only paved road in town.  Other beggars have missing limbs. Sometimes totally missing. Sometimes a stub, probably due to gang green (spelling?). I have probably become somewhat hardened.  I do not react emotionally the way I used to when I first arrived in Mali. For a while, I was almost in shock.  But last night, as I was eating dinner from one of my favorite street vendors, I was continually surrounded by about 10 garibous, or street children, who were begging food and/or money.  I was hardly bothered. But, the other day, I purchased a snack from one of 12 or so young women sitting at rickety tables along the goudron (paved road).  The snack was a fried doe type of food, kind of like a doughnut. There were 4 small doughnuts in a plastic bag. I like them. As I handed the money to the street vendor and turned to put the small plastic bag in my back pack, I saw him.  A small beggar boy, perhaps 6 years old, with his arm raised, hand palm up, a very needy/wanting look, and an incredibly innocent look. Not a word did he utter. My body continued with its customary 'beggar response' motion. I averted eye contact, and continued past him like he did not exist. But I could not get the image of his face and hand out of my mind, my mind, my mind.  I continue on back to my house, did my normal preparing for the night activities. And his image returned again.  And about 6 hours after seeing him, I cried.