Last night I explained the concept of astronomy to a young man in my village who has taken a liking to me. It was amazing to watch his eyes light up when I told him about the stars and how they were like our sun but much larger and much farther away. How the earth revolves around the sun (thought that was a basic concept, but I guess not) and how we are among billions of stars and planets in the universe, comparing Earth to sand on a beach. Quite frankly I was pretty pleased with myself given the limits on my vocabulary. I mean, I wasn’t explaining String Theory or anything, but still…
Today the monthly shipment of food aid came, in the form of cornmeal and lentils, and we distributed it to the local activistas. Also on hand were the sick and destitute that rely on this monthly event to sustain them for the coming weeks. There are about 70 of them waiting under the big tree that sits in front of our office, since it is far too hot not to sit in the shade. I look around at the faces; some joking with each other to pass the time, some coughing, many nursing babies. They line up to receive their allotments. After everything is done, two crippled old women who apparently were not on the list to receive aid get on their hands and knees to pick the forgotten lentils out of the dirt so that they will have a little extra food to eat tonight. No one seems to mind as I guess this is a regular occurrence. It is sad to see this kind of poverty. These women, some abandoned by their husbands after learning they were HIV positive, are struggling to live each day to buy food and medicine. We have poor people in America, but at least with us there is a safety net. The government can step in and prevent most people from getting to the point of sheer destitution. Here, if your family isn’t there to care for you, you are out of luck.
During training we were discussing the importance of acclimating to a new culture and what that meant. One of the volunteers piped up and talked about how she wanted to really get in and live like her community lives, face what they face and get the "real experience." This term, "real experience," sent a shock through me and I had to speak up. I mentioned that there is no way that we can truly understand what the members of our community are experiencing and it’s insulting to think that we can. At any moment, without explanation, we can call Peace Corps to say we want out, and within 24 hours, we’re on a plane for the states. We have round the clock medical care if needed, money for food, not to mention the background of a great education to give us the tools to think critically (some more than others) about challenges we might face. While I shouldn’t have gotten angry (they girl had good intentions) it startled me that anyone could think that it was possible to even come close to walking in another person’s shoes. Paul Farmer said it best, "They don’t want you to live like they do. They want you to put on a pair of slacks and a tie and actually better their lives."
Over the next few weeks I am talking to activistas, community members, and those I work with to try and find out what are problems that people are willing to come together on to fix given the right resources. The resources I can find, but it’s the passion that has to come from them.
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