Loneliness

Lonely people, looking for someone; lonely people going their way
Lonely people, looking for something; lonely people going their way

In the naked city, there are ten million stories
I'm not looking for pity, in this naked city
In the naked city, it's a race with the devil
All the pain and the sorrow, is there more tomorrow

"Naked city", by Kiss (Unmasked, 1980)

She told me her name was Sandra and she was Irish, but I know that's probably not true. Probably in her late 30s or early 40s, well dressed, you would think of her as a typical 'soccer mom' or young professional. Instead, I saw her walking -or trying to- on a deserted parking lot in Uptown Waterloo last Saturday at around 9 PM, and she was completely intoxicated.

I was there because I had just brought some things that Gaby needed for the tango show, where she was selling some of her cakes. As I was getting off the car, I saw this lady pass by, tripping and stumbling at every second step. I froze in there for a few -eternal- seconds, as I was pondering my options: What should I do? Should I go and try to help her? Should I call the police? After all, she could put herself in danger by walking into a darker area of the city.

I didn't have too much time to think, as I saw her fall down about 50 yards in front of me. I walked in there and offered my help. She did remember where she lived, but wouldn't tell me. She said that she had never gotten drunk before, and I replied that I had no reason not to believe that. Then she said that her mother had passed away that same day, and again I knew that was probably not true. Her husband was going to be mad, she said.

- "Do you have a phone number I can call?"
- "I don't remember"
- "Do you have family?"
- "I have a husband and three kids"
- "Where do you live? I can take you home, this area is not safe"

She told me the address, and I had no idea where it was (it turned out to be about five blocks away).

I helped her walk for about 50 metres, then she stopped and sat on the street for a few minutes. When she got up, she started to cry, inconsolable. She hugged me, and I just let her cry. I was literally frozen, as I didn't her to misinterpret any of my movements; after all, I was trying to help her, but she didn't necessarily need to know that...

- "I'm trying so bad to be a normal person, and live a normal life... I can never catch a break"

I felt years of frustration coming down along with her tears. I said a few words trying to calm her down, and begged her to stay put, so I could go get the car and take her home. Of course, my intention to go get the phone I had left there so I could call the police; they would know how to take care of her appropriately. After all, she was just drunk, and not causing any troubles.

I left her sitting on the grass by a church and made a run to the car. Called the police and gave them a description of this lady. I told them where she was, and as I was doing that, a police car drove by. Of course, she was gone by the time I got back to the place I had left her, so I will never know if the police picked her up or she just took off.

If there's anything this woman transmitted to me was a sense of infinite loneliness. There she was, a young lady with kids probably waiting for her at home, and she was just lying on the street, completely drunk. it made me very sad to get a dose of reality like that, but it's a reality, and we see it here very often.

I just hope she made it home safely. I feel terribly for not having known how to help.

Picture by vidman.ca

Me dijo que su nombre era Sandra y que era irlandesa, pero sé que todo eso era seguramente mentira. Probablemente de entre 35 y 45 años de edad, muy bien vestida, uno pensaría que se encontraba frente a lo que aquí denominamos una 'soccer mom' o una aún joven profesional. Sin embargo, la mujer que yo me encontré caminaba -o intentaba caminar- por un estacionamiento desierto en el centro de Waterloo el sábado pasado a eso de las 9 PM, y estaba totalmente intoxicada

Yo estaba allí porque le había traído unas cosas a Gaby para el show de tango en el que vendía sus tortas. Cuando salía del auto, vi pasar a esta mujer, tropezando y bamboleándose a cada paso. Me quedé congelado por unos -eternos- segundos, mientras evaluaba mis opciones: Qué hacer? La trataba de ayudar? Llamaba a la policía? Después de todo, ella corría peligro, sobre todo si se internaba en las calles más oscuras

No tuve mucho más tiempo para pensar, porque la vi caer a unos 50 metros de donde yo estaba. Me le acerqué y le ofrecí ayuda. Ella recordaba dónde vivía, pero no me lo iba a decir. Dijo que nunca se había emborrachado antes, y yo le contesté que no tenía por qué dudar de su palabra. Luego me contó que su madre había muerto ese día, pero nuevamente supe que eso era probablemente falso. Su esposo se iba a enojar, me dijo

- "Tiene un número al que podamos llamar
- "No lo recuerdo"
- "Tiene familia?"
- "Un esposo y tres hijos"
- "Dónde vive? La puedo llevar a su casa, esta zona no es muy segura"

Me dijo su dirección, pero yo no tenía ni idea de dónde era (luego resultó que quedaba como a cinco cuadras).

Le ayudé a caminar por unos 50 metros, y luego ella se detuvo y se sentó en la calle por unos minutos. Cuando se levantó, comenzó a llorar inconsolablemente. Me abrazó, y yo simplemente la dejé llorar. Estaba literalmente petrificado, porque no quería que malinterpretara ninguno de mis movimientos; después de todo, yo estaba para ayudarla, pero ella no tenía por qué saberlo...

- "Trato tanto de ser una persona normal, y vivir una vida normal... Nunca parece salirme nada bien"

Sentí la frustración en sus lágrimas. Le dije algunas palabras de compromiso para calmarla, y le rogué que se quedara quieta mientras iba a buscar el auto para llevarla a casa. En realidad, lo que quería era agarrar el teléfono que había dejado y llamar a la policía; ellos sabrían cómo tratarla. Después de todo, ella sólo estaba ebria y no había causado ningún problema.

La dejé sentada en el césped del jardín de una iglesia y me hice una corrida a buscar el auto. Desde allí, llamé a la policía y les dí una descripción de la mujer. Mientras les decía dónde se encontraba, vi pasar un móvil policial. Por supuesto, para cuando yo volví, ella ya no estaba, así que nunca sabré si la policía la buscó o simplemente se fue.

Si algo me transmitió esta mujer fue una sensación de infinita soleddad. Allí la teníamos, una mujer joven con hijos que probablemente esperaran en casa, y en lugar de estar allí estaba tirada en medio de la calle, ebria. Me entristeció semejante golpe con la realidad que tuve, pero es allgo con lo que vivimos todos los días, y debemos confrontar realidades como éstas.

Espero que haya vuelto a casa a salvo. Me siento terrible por no haber sabido cómo ayudar.

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