It’s been several days since I haven’t seen him. And I use to see him at least once a day or even more. Would salute me every time, not expecting anything in return. I am bit worried actually I am distressed. I wanted to film him, but then I dismissed this idea because of the fact that is too complicated. The subject is a kid and the object is a kid, barefoot wandering kid. I was suggested to film just his shadow in order not to release much of his identity and features. But he’s not a shadow! He’s real! He’s presence all over. His face comes to my dreams. Why? Then I decided I am going to write about him. For me he’s a presence and for others maybe fiction or perhaps real, depends on how much one can imagine the wandering boy. I just wanted to help him, or more precisely help myself…do he needed any of my help? I use to see him how he comes out of the jungle, alone, and immediately to go into an asphalt jungle, obviously none of it was disturbing for him. He seemed in connection with himself. I was questioning him many times, about his family, school etc. trying to give him life advice…what life for God sake, he’s wandering boy! Once he told me that he has parents and home…I believed him…how naïve! He wasn’t lying he was just protecting himself and I realized that subsequently. I saw him sleeping on a concrete fence of the electricity transformer; the wires were leaning toward and almost touching his body. He wasn’t afraid, or at least he wasn’t aware of the danger. But which danger, he’s wandering boy?! I saw him on the beach; I wanted to know whether he knows how to swim. The moment I posed the question he plunged into the turquoise water, for me seemed like an eternity before he went out…This boy, a young boy with much integrity and dignity than any adult I’ve ever met. This boy… so alive and wandering I just want to be like him when I grow up.