A man selling packets of tissues on a street corner in La Paz

I met a man the other day. I only said two words to him: “cuanta cuesta?” I accepted the price and I bought a pack of 10 facial tissues for $1 Boliviano. He was dark as dusk and his lines absorbed the light of the afternoon so that he lacked a third dimension. His desperation made me ache, but I only had the heart to buy his tissues. I had not the stomach to offer him anything else. And yet, his eyes lit up like fireworks and he accepted me as a friend when I offered him the coin; placing it into his wrinkled hand like it meant something to me - because I knew it meant something to him.