Every day he toils, muscles rippling, back straining, legs groping for purchase.
His work worn hands are near bereft of feeling. Yet on his cracked palms, each dry callus has a story to tell…as the rest of him does. His back, of the heat of the sun; his palms, the bite of the rope; his head, the weight of the load; his unshod feet, the pinch of the hard rocky earth. He is no beast, yet life has made it his place to bear the burdens of others. This is his reality..
To this life, he has given his body, which is indeed all that he has, and has taken his lowly place within the circle of life with nary a grudge or hope of a better existence.
In all, their variations have a lot of things in common; pushful, enduring, strong, hardworking, street-smart, and will go where most vehicles dare not.
The occupation is associated with meagre means and sometimes suffering but considered better than turning to a life of crime.