I walked (or more specifically rode on the tram with) a confused, cold, lost woman somewhere, I guess to her home or maybe shelter, Saturday night. I wasn’t sure what the heck else I was supposed to do with her. It wasn’t anything I particularly wanted to do, but the basic question was If not me, who? She had an address, and thus I had a vague idea of where I needed to walk with her to… as it turned out, it was vaguer than where she knew she needed to go.

I couldn’t make head or tales of what I was doing. In her broken English, she used the word “PUH-LEAZE”. I asked if she wanted me to call the police for help, and she was adament against it. Was she an illegal alien? I don’t know, and I could not spot her accent anywhere.

But the problem came up where she pantomimed some things. She pantomimed violence, and all I could do was think she had been battered by someone. I’m guessing she had a horrible day, but short of contacting the police — which she was opposed to — there was nothing I could do about it. I’m thinking it’s in the police officer’s perogative to ignore a status of illegal immigration in favour of more pressing matters of violence and assualt, but (a) an illegal immigrant is still terrified of the prospect, and (b) I don’t even know that that is the deal confronting the woman I’m — somewhat reluctantly– helping.

When we reached a spot she could identify, she quickly parted ways with me. And I was left not sure what the heck I did here. Ah well. I guess one is never sure of what they do when they do something important to their fellow person.

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