The few homeless people in Wellington are classier and more thoughtful than New York’s ragged homeless population. There are no subways here so people can’t go from car to car with their scripted story or the same haggard version of Lean On Me. Instead, the street folk here offer poetry. Seriously!
I was walking down Cuba St. and this homeless guy asked if he could read some poetry for cash. He probably would have read Lean On Me, but still, it’s a much better effort! And on the way back home, he was on the other side of the street offering poetry and newly acquired strawberries, which is super-sketchy, but still awesome.
Then there’s the Maori guy who sits on a towel at the corner of Courteney and Tory wearing a loincloth. He’s less cool because he doesn’t offer poetry or strawberries, but – and this probably couldn’t be more offensive – he does serve as a nice reminder of New Zealand culture.
Update: Blanket Man is alright.
(Photo: Sapo Essay)
