According to this article, there are more homeless kids in Moscow then there are kids in my entire city. I guess the figure wouldn't of made a difference to me (they never do) but there are pictures and we know how I am with those.
I will quickly forget this since they are so very far away and so foreign (we Americans can shut things out like no one) but then I started thinking about him.
He being one of the subjects of one of the most disturbing movies I've seen.
"Not Angles, But Angeles" is about street kids in Prague. It's easy to tune out the subtitles no matter the tragic words of violence, AIDS, and despair because those silly people don't speak my language, but then we see him.
He is asked by the filmmaker why his English is so good. "I'm from New York" he replies. He goes on to tell a story of a Czech dad who returned from the US bringing him along. He ran away from home and lives where he can. Asked what he does for money he says he steals. The filmmaker let's it go but comes back to it and finally asks him straight out which is when you start to get all teary. I'm sure I was not okay with the locals being whores, but this kid for some reason ripped my heart out. No one should have to do that, but he was like me. I understood his words.
This film was from 1994 and I can still recall his voice. I wonder if he made it to adulthood. I wonder if he did not. I wonder what sort of person feels they can buy a child's body and not deserve to be beaten to death.
Finally, I wonder if English were to spread around the globe if our caring would rise equally.
