He was an old man sitting on a corner in Puerto Viejo—the almost-last beach town on Costa Rica’s Caribbean side. We rode through town on a tiny motorcycle and waved the first time we went by. He lifted his greying, dreadlocked head and smiled and nodded. I was a little shocked at the huge dent in his forehead. How does a person even survive the blow that must have been?
Sometimes you see a flaw or oddity on a person and even though it shocks or even disgusts you, you just put it aside and make a choice to look past it. It may not be easy because the oddity is so visible. But if you can just accept it as part of that person’s journey, maybe you can appreciate the work it has done on the soul inside.
We called him Hammer Head.
He wasn't much of a shark though.
We passed him every day. Sometimes three or four times a day. He always smiled and nodded. We started stopping and Lee would call out, "Hi, Brother!" and Hammer Head would smile even bigger and ramble on in Caribbean English. I wouldn't understand most of it, but I loved the sound.
One day, we slowed as we came to the little corner where Hammer Head usually sat. It was morning and the clear air and bright sun promised the day would be hot. I was surprised to see Hammer Head on his feet. He seemed to be listing a little. Lee slowed the bike and swerved as he tried to take in the situation. Hammer Head was going down.
It was only a second before we were both off the bike. I don't know if the old Rasta man had been drinking all night or if he was having a seizure, but as he fell in slow motion it was into the arms of those who cared. A street girl nearly threw her body under him to prevent him from hitting the cement. It was a beautiful thing to see her unselfish concern. Lee reached out in time to help prevent a hard fall and several younger men caught the old man by the arms. Together they propped the him against a tree.
He seemed a little dazed, but unhurt. The street girl fluttered about him like a butterfly. She seemed to have everything under control. She was concerned, but not afraid. She assured us he would be fine.
I am still not sure what the trouble was. But, it was a beautiful thing to see such grand affection so quickly poured out on what most would think was just some lonely street guy.
We saw Hammer Head the next day and Lee called out his usual, "Hi, Brother!" The Rasta man smiled and nodded his accept-life-and-be-happy smile.