I feel sensitive
from the day.
Generally I try to look for the beauty and strength and joy
amidst the filth and suffering and pain...but today I must look at it straight
in the face and call it by its name. I suppose that it was only a matter of
time before I wrote about the extreme poverty. This is probably a predictable
reaction that we all knew was coming. That doesn’t make it any less real or
vital. The state of poverty here is so overwhelming that I practically feel
numb…as if there is so much to feel and react to that my body doesn’t know
where to start. It is more than a thought. It is more than a feeling. It's a
whole body sensation; it's a feeling of helplessness and separation. Problems
so large that you don’t know where to start.
This is a picture of people purchasing water in the slums. It is 300 shillings for 60 liters, which is about $0.19. That may not sound like a lot, but it is still common to find people living on less than $1 a day, so $0.19 can really cut into the budget. This water will still have to boiled to be safe for drinking. Fuel- whether wood, charcoal or gas- takes more energy, more time and more money to get.
For a house in the slums, this one is actually pretty decent because it is built out of bricks. If you look closer, you can really see a lot of traces of the everyday life. This is a very common scene.
It is staggering
the number of people who struggle on a daily basis just to acquire the basic
necessities of life. It seems as if most have a shelter. I can’t even call it a
home because it may just be a 10 x 10 room constructed out of sticks and mud.
They are not sitting in their nice bedroom being cooled by a fan wondering
whether or not they should go on to get their Master’s Degree or where next in
the world they should travel (yeah…I’m referring to myself here). They are just
dealing with fetching water and figuring out their next meal. And that is on
repeat.
Here are some pictures of the woman that we visited. Her home is tiny and has no electricity. It is a single room that is maybe 10x10 or 15x15. She pays 30,000 shillings a month to live there which is about $20. She is 73 and had six children. All but one have died and she has many grand and great grandchildren. The one sitting next to her on the bed is her great-grandchild that lives with her.
Always smiling. She has even worked to make her little place more like home by having flowers planted in buckets.
It is so hard
not to feel guilty for all that I have. I was grateful for all that I have
before I came here and I tried to express that gratitude often, if not daily,
but being grateful doesn’t take away from feeling almost shameful for what I
have when so many people all over the world have so little. Hot water that
comes out of the tap is like magic! I realize that guilt is not an appropriate
feeling and probably not a very productive one either. I just want to make the
world a better place and I don’t know how to fix these problems and it is
infuriating. It’s like this crazy itch on the inside of my body that cannot be
reached, no matter how hard you scratch the surface. I have resources and I
have talents and the challenge is figuring out how to make the best use of
them. No one said that this was going to be easy.
I am an
optimist. I do believe that we can work towards positive change that will
improve each other’s lives. I’m talking about sustainable change that truly
creates upward mobility for not just this generation, but future generations. You
have to look at the big picture and get overwhelmed, before you can find the
smaller problems that need fixing first. A house is only as strong as its
foundation and there is no one size that fits all. Each situation is unique and
you have to understand what you are dealing with before you can start building.
This last picture is for the family. Hello! I am tired and dirty and sad in this picture, but I have learned from the locals to keep smiling.
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