I saw a man today, as I walked towards a beach in La Paz, Baja California Sur. A man with disgruntled hair and dirty trousers. A man with no shirt or shoes, in 100℉ weather. A man who I saw shifting and looking through a giant trash bin. A bin so big he fit inside. There was another man near him, near his car. This man was clean. With his tidy clothes, clean hair and a phone near his ear. This man looked at the man in the trash bin with distaste, as if he too was as unwanted as the trash he was currently in. As I walked down to the beach I saw a little boy throw away a half eaten ice cream and thought how the man could've possibly enjoyed an ice cream. I stood near some rocks, near the shade. I waited with my uncle, who too chose to not get in the water. After a short while, we walked backed and I looked to see if the man was still in the trash bin, but he was no longer there. As I shifted my gaze to the left, I see the homeless man under the palapa. He was no longer in the trash bin, but eating something he had found in it. I thought about how bad it must be for him to be forced to scavenge for unwanted food. Said food that has no doubt touched other unsanitary items. Which was also trapped inside a bin, sitting in 100 degree weather with flies surrounding the entire bin. I felt sad, thinking about it. I wanted to hug the man, to take him with me and feed him all that there was. But all I could do was watch him, for I had no money with me. And who knows, maybe the homeless man didn't want to be pitied, didn't want to be given money and seen as man in need of help. But at the same time, who can't help but feel that way for a man who is seen scavenging for something to eat.