Amand’s name is Amar. Oops.

Remember my shoe shine friend Amand? His name is actually Amar, I just misunderstood with his accent when first introduced. He’s tripled his earnings now that he shines shoes in a railway station with his shoe shine box. His mother and sister don’t have to beg anymore. Instead his mom goes to gossip with the other neighborhood ladies during the day – a common pastime for Indian women, as I guess it is for all women everywhere. My mom gave me some money to give to Amar, so I did, and Amar is so happy that he now calls me every day. I’m not kidding. He also says he’s going to go to the airport with me on Sunday even though my flight leaves at 5:55am. He and I spent Sunday at Juhu Beach. Juhu Beach is the most crowded beach I’ve ever seen in my life. It’s dirty, the sand is rocky, but it was good times, even though the heat from the sun (which is always directly overhead here – it’s not in the south like it is in the U.S.) made my skin red, white, blotchy, and itchy. Amar and I ate a spicy puffed rice snack dish called bhel purri at the food stalls at Juhu.

My digital camera has broken again, now for the third time in its life. The thing is old, too-large, and out of date. When I fixed it before it cost $125 each time. Fixing it’s not worth it. I gave it too Amar, and he can either fix it or sell it. Whatever he does with it, I’m his hero. He said never in his life did he imagine he could be so lucky and get helped out by anyone. His life is so much better now in July than it was in May or June. He’s out of the stinking plastic-walled slum he lived in before. His mom doesn’t beg, and he’s earning enough money that he can save. He says he wants to return to Jaipur and open an embroidery business. (Remember that Jaipur is famous for its handicrafts – although almost everywhere is in India.) Then on Monday a Mexican man who works for Nokia and who was staying in 5-star hotel gave Amar Rs. 1000 ($25). I’m happy that such good luck has befallen my friend Amar, although helping him is but a drop partially removed from the bucket of India’s miserable poverty.

My lawyer colleague and friend Mritunjay told me today that he would never ever entertain the thought of listening and befriending a shoeshine boy, nor would he even go into a slum, let alone visit a slum school. I get to meet people like Amar because I’m an ignorant foreigner.