When rock bottom isn't low enough

Last night I shared a meal with a kind pakistani of 20 years.

Earlier in the afternoon he was out washing his early 90's corolla.
Faded paint, manual gearbox, one of the windows held up with tape. I loved it.

So I tried to start a conversation (think simple english wikipedia). It went quite well.
I saw him later in the evening walking back with my loot from the local carrefour (not measured in sq km). He seemed to be just out in the carpark talking with friends. They look to had been there for hours given the small mountain of spent cigarettes. He offered to carry some of it up, and he wouldn't have a bar of it any other way.

I offered for him to come in, sit, and join me in a drink. While talking I tried to demonstrate to him where belgium is, as "where are you from" is a conversation piece that is universal to everyone in this Tossed Salad of a city.
Using google maps on my laptop he was amazed at the satellite and map view of europe.

The next talking point "what do you do" is another to which I learnt about how he lives.

He's a conductor for a school bus.
He can't read english or arabic.

He lives in his 1bdr apartment with 8 other people.
He earns A$200 total a month.

His father with which he lives has been in Dubai for 37 years.


I realized that I had never met someone who earns so little before. Even beggars in sydney receive more.

But he seems happy enough. He's not much of a thinker, a simple man who values kindness.
He will get to sleep well at night, the thoughts of the day won't be keeping him up.
In many ways, a much happier life than any we might live.