When I insisted, she reached into her tray, and with her gold tooth winking on and off with her mirth, handed me this cracked, grimy, chipped piece of gum. I took one look at it and put it in my shirt pocket. She cackled and moved on, hoping that I had learned my lesson. The stories are every bit as gut wrenching as you might suppose, full of dead children and hopelessly crippled husbands. Probably, they are true.
Life is cruel in the third world, and there is no shame in begging.
Norteamericanos are very uncomfortable with beggars, having been taught that begging is shameful. Not so the Mexicanos. They look the beggar in the eye, and ask questions. Then they decide what, if anything, to give. When they give, they are usually more generous than we are.