By a cafe in Brussels I watched as a young woman harassed an elderly man for money, demanding he give her something in strident tones and following him around for about 20 seconds before she finally gave up. With her group was an older woman, who approached diners for cash, and a boy. I presume he was learning his trade.
I remember thinking if they put as much effort into a job they'd be at the top of any trade they wanted.
As a tourist you are marked as a target and all you need to do is open your mouth. That allows them to work out you are not from around there and then they are in faster than a parking inspector with a new piece of chalk.
My first experience of beggars/rip-off artists was in Paris' Gare du Nord train station where a woman came up to us and our bags asking if we wanted a taxi. We did, told her the hotel and she signalled to a driver who was ever so conveniently right next to her. The fare was 70, about $110. Knowing it was a set-up we wandered out to the taxi stand and said it was too much for what would be a 20 minute walk. Another, unassociated driver, would do it for 50, he said. We declined and walked instead. The hotel concierge said it should have been 20.
Just before beginning our walk and with street map at the ready I had a young woman come up to me waving a petition for something. I began to read it, saw I had to give her 20 minimum and said "Forget it, here's 10 now go away." It was only when I got to the hotel I noticed the zip on my backpack had been partially opened - clearly I had saved myself some loss by ending the conversation with the woman faster than she expected.
Lesson learned.
The main beggars in both the cities mentioned are scarved women, although in Brussels a male dwarf got 2 out of me from his very carefully considered position in front of a cash machine.
He was sitting on a blanket looking all forlorn and I was taken in by the moment. As we walked away my good lady punctured my balloon of feeling good by asking if I had seen his (expensive) watch? Or his shoes? No, I missed the shoes (well what fellow would notice things like that) but I should have cottoned on to the watch.
One of the funniest moments I had in Paris was on the Champs Elysee in front of one of the really swank stores. It could have been Prada, or Tiffanys, or ... whatever, things cost way too much in there for my wallet and if it isn't camera gear or Napoleonic antiques who wants to buy anything?
Anyway, out the front was this gypsy woman lying down on the footpath arm stretched out with a cup in her hand. I watched her for quite a few minutes and she was playing the part of a sleeping person quite well. That was until her offsider came along and showed her displeasure at the woman's laziness by giving her a short, sharp kick in the ribs.
I nearly fell over.
But it did get her up and about and she was soon much more animated in trying to get coins out of passers-by.
Now some of you may think I am being mean about these poor people, but I have a tale to finish that may change your views.
We were staying in Brussels' red-light area which, if you know that city, is a pretty dodgy part of town. Mind you, I did make waving acquaintances with a couple of girls in a window who seemed very friendly towards me. Blowing kisses and the like.
We had been wandering about checking out the Great Market and Manekin Pis and once again I got interested in watching an old woman plying her begging trade with cup in hand. The reason I noticed her was she had a very hairy chin with very long white strands moving in the wind.
No, it wasn't pleasant but it was because of the hairs that I remember seeing her later.
Across from our hotel was a bottleshop and whiskey was calling me so we went in for a small bottle, something to snack on and some water. Lo and behold who should be in there but my hirsute be-scarved one.
No sooner had I thought "Crikey, business must have been good for her to be in a shop" than her mobile phone rang. Out it came from under her grimy clothes - sparkling and new.
I couldn't help myself and burst into laughter.
The really amusing bit was about to come, however, as she held out her hand that was filled to overflowing with the euros she'd cadged off generous people and bought a packet of cigarettes.
Say no more.
-richard@richardmoore.com
Richard Moore is an award-winning Western Bay journalist and photographer.
