Wednesday, March 03, 2004
I saw an Indian middle-age male at the bus stop today. He got off the bus and started vomitting into the grass nearby. He seemed to me like one of the many foreign construction workers on his way home, and by the looks of it, not feeling too well. Maybe he had a beer too many, or he was just really ill. The people at the bus-stop either gaped at him in disgust or continued waiting for their bus, since a puking Indian was none of their concern. Unless he was throwing up his lunch all over them. I would have offered him some sour plums if I had them, but I only had lozenges on me. The sight of a vomitting and sick middle-age Indian laborer seemed rather pitiful. No family to take care of him, bring him to the doctor or even walk him home. The last time I did the exact same thing years ago, I'm at least thankful now that mom was with me. And never mind she was worried sick and scolding me all the while, that was her way of showing she cared. In true Asian style.
