Photograph: Tyler Hicks/The New York Times
Haiti — There was pain in Jean François’s eyes, real suffering, an awful look of woe.
It might have been that he had little to eat that day, or his lack of a job or any real hope of securing one. Perhaps it stemmed from the squalor in his neighborhood, a sprawling and rather depressing slum of tin-roofed houses.
Looking on, one wanted to help this desperate 29-year-old man, console him, somehow help him break out of what was clearly a deep funk.
But there was nothing to be done. It turns out that Mr. François’s life was not the immediate source of his desperation. It was his losing streak — and the dozens of clothespins clipped onto his face, arms and belly.
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