Pensioners out in the campo are often in dire straits. Believe me, I know many of them. They live pitiful lives, depending on their equally poor neighbors' charity. The lucky ones have a child or grandchild in the US who sends them money from time to time.
They consider Mr. AE and me very rich [we're far from it], and they come to visit me from time to time. They rarely come empty-handed, they show up with a little bag of some fruit or veg they have picked from their property, and I make the suitable fuss over their gift. I offer them a cup of coffee and whatever else I have [cookies, chocolate, cake, or a sandwich]. They find some of the American stuff we have very exotic. We send plates of food over to them from time to time.
Several of them have little 'stores' at their house, where they sell little things [single cigarettes, gum, etc., kind of mini-mini colmados], trying to eek out a few extra pesos. One sets up a little rickety table out front where they sell vegetables and fruits, some home grown, some they buy at the mercado in San Cristobal once or twice a week. I buy their stuff to help the local economy without it looking like charity, even though Mr. AE sometimes grumbles that they're overcharging me.