It all began with sumptuous morning melon -
flesh melting from seeds in ready deliciousness.
But still I chose to plant one in my stomach
Hoping for magic.
and magic you have painted
at the park, you
awkward giants:
skipping through sprinklers,
wrestling on dry grass,
sharing seeds and nuts from meager pocket money,
growing into bigger bodies yet bubbling with the universal soul of childhood, in pure love of play.
Magic.
Let's swap languages with eagerness, capture your silly stunts on film.
It’s okay to lap up attention like the cats snarfed macaroni.
You may feel too few validate your unique spendour -
Let us be some who do…
Go on, we are open like this golden sky!
Thank you for ‘funny times’… sharing the beauty of boyhood:
dragging us on the dizzying merry-go-swing singing whoo weee,
unleashing the laughter of twenty boys tumbling down hills in contagious spontaneity,
licking melted ice cream with appreciative abandon.
I would swallow all the seeds so your lives could be bathed in learning and joy
like this, always.
For you to be safe in work, have limitless opportunities ahead.
But who am I to control things...
without some struggle can we know joy?
Is there a reason for your pain?
Perhaps if it were all in our hands there would be no magic…
So swallow a few in faith
and share them,
that your lives unfold according to your hopes
and that you find beauty in your own ways
Magic not mine.
Tuesday, June 10, 2008
Friday, June 6, 2008
the pain of price hikes… today on a bus
As the cost of moving and living continues to climb in Egypt, the tensions of poverty are following suit… bubbling in the veins of the community of Doweika.
It takes only a bus ride to feel the strain. A woman argues about the fare because to her, doubling the price from 25 to 50 piesters (the equivalent of 5 to 10 cents) has pulled too hard on the purse strings. After five minutes of discussion amongst passengers, someone offers to pay for her. This may pacify her for now, but the furrows of stress written across her brow will likely deepen as her family’s wages are not rising to match the higher costs of oil and food. This is the global food crisis as it plays out in human form. How will the people of Doweika, and many other already poverty-stricken communities manage in countries like Egypt with their struggling economies and stark inequalities?
On days like these it’s easy to lose hope. To feel powerless in the face of Doweika’s deepening suffering. Since I began working in this community in September there have been many days when the systemic injustices that limit people’s opportunities in life here are overwhelmingly sad and frustrating. The newest layer of instability just adds to the pile of grievances…grievances that include a terrible education system that stifles career possibilities and often pushes children into work, and the lack of good waste collection or reliable water and (at times) electricity that lead to poor sanitation and health, among other things.
Yet in a situation like this frustration isn’t going to get one anywhere… This is where perspective is important on a couple levels.
Level 1: it’s important to acknowledge that it may be beyond one person (at least me) to change the economic structures that govern people’s lives in Doweika… humbling though this admission is for those committed to working in and with this community. But recognizing one’s individual powerlessness does not mean that it is time to give up or shut off our compassion for these people. Rather, it is the time to take a step back to look at the big picture, analyze the different components of the socio-economic system and discern where within these it is possible to support people as they seek to improve their lives and community. And as Margaret Mead has said "Never doubt that a small group of thoughtful and committed people can make a difference. Indeed it's the only thing that ever has." In this framework, EACID’s provision of loans alone, not to mention their social interventions, can be an empowering force in some people’s lives. They cannot reach everyone, but this MFI has its niche.
I have been thinking a lot about powerlessness and agency since moving to Egypt, and as I struggle towards peace about my place in the world and calling in life the words of Reinhold Neibuhr have been incredibly poignant... perhaps a mantra:
"God, grant me the serenity to accept the things I cannot change;
the courage to change the things I can;
and the wisdom to know the difference."
We cannot and don't have to do everything... we, like micro-finance programs have our own individual niche to plug into systems and work for change. As I continue in my work in Doweika, I am learning to channel my passion and concern for others' wellbeing into my work with PPIC-Work, supporting working children to maximize their opportunities in and outside of their jobs, and helping to expand our programming to broaden the reach and deepen the impact of our work. This is a level I can work at, and that’s ‘enough’ for now. I am one of millions of caring people, and I have to trust that we will each find our ways to contribute. Our collective efforts can address poverty and inequality on a significant level.
Level 2: I believe that often “you see what you want to see” so being aware of your perspective or outlook is important to maintaining a sense of internal peace amidst the suffering of the world. For example, in Doweika I can look around me and see the garbage on the streets, the dilapidated brick buildings slapped together haphazardly, and the growing number of small children working and lose hope. Or I can see the toddler mounted on the donkey pulling his father’s watermelon cart with a huge smile on his face, the new business that opened around the corner, and the beautiful symphony of busyness humming from the carpenter’s, hammered out by panel-beaters and whispered in the hairdresser’s - glimpses of the resilience of this community.
There is suffering, but there is also a spirit of ‘let’s get on with our lives, somehow we’ll make it through’. Or as Muslim friends have shared with me, the spirit of “Hamdallah” (thanks be to God), said in times of suffering and of celebration because suffering draws us nearer to God, and we will one day transcend it and be rewarded in Heaven. So "Hamdallah" because we are alive on God’s green earth another day, and it is a day to recognize the gifts in our lives, most of which are not material. To live with this perspective is to maintain sanity in a system of instability, and cultivate a wisdom and peace that should not be mistaken for complacency. There is a strength and dignity in Doweika that one comes to appreciate through connections with friends there.
So there may be price hikes and this is causing suffering but somehow we will move forward, with faith and hope, working to find our small niches of support and service.
It takes only a bus ride to feel the strain. A woman argues about the fare because to her, doubling the price from 25 to 50 piesters (the equivalent of 5 to 10 cents) has pulled too hard on the purse strings. After five minutes of discussion amongst passengers, someone offers to pay for her. This may pacify her for now, but the furrows of stress written across her brow will likely deepen as her family’s wages are not rising to match the higher costs of oil and food. This is the global food crisis as it plays out in human form. How will the people of Doweika, and many other already poverty-stricken communities manage in countries like Egypt with their struggling economies and stark inequalities?
On days like these it’s easy to lose hope. To feel powerless in the face of Doweika’s deepening suffering. Since I began working in this community in September there have been many days when the systemic injustices that limit people’s opportunities in life here are overwhelmingly sad and frustrating. The newest layer of instability just adds to the pile of grievances…grievances that include a terrible education system that stifles career possibilities and often pushes children into work, and the lack of good waste collection or reliable water and (at times) electricity that lead to poor sanitation and health, among other things.
Yet in a situation like this frustration isn’t going to get one anywhere… This is where perspective is important on a couple levels.
Level 1: it’s important to acknowledge that it may be beyond one person (at least me) to change the economic structures that govern people’s lives in Doweika… humbling though this admission is for those committed to working in and with this community. But recognizing one’s individual powerlessness does not mean that it is time to give up or shut off our compassion for these people. Rather, it is the time to take a step back to look at the big picture, analyze the different components of the socio-economic system and discern where within these it is possible to support people as they seek to improve their lives and community. And as Margaret Mead has said "Never doubt that a small group of thoughtful and committed people can make a difference. Indeed it's the only thing that ever has." In this framework, EACID’s provision of loans alone, not to mention their social interventions, can be an empowering force in some people’s lives. They cannot reach everyone, but this MFI has its niche.
I have been thinking a lot about powerlessness and agency since moving to Egypt, and as I struggle towards peace about my place in the world and calling in life the words of Reinhold Neibuhr have been incredibly poignant... perhaps a mantra:
"God, grant me the serenity to accept the things I cannot change;
the courage to change the things I can;
and the wisdom to know the difference."
We cannot and don't have to do everything... we, like micro-finance programs have our own individual niche to plug into systems and work for change. As I continue in my work in Doweika, I am learning to channel my passion and concern for others' wellbeing into my work with PPIC-Work, supporting working children to maximize their opportunities in and outside of their jobs, and helping to expand our programming to broaden the reach and deepen the impact of our work. This is a level I can work at, and that’s ‘enough’ for now. I am one of millions of caring people, and I have to trust that we will each find our ways to contribute. Our collective efforts can address poverty and inequality on a significant level.
Level 2: I believe that often “you see what you want to see” so being aware of your perspective or outlook is important to maintaining a sense of internal peace amidst the suffering of the world. For example, in Doweika I can look around me and see the garbage on the streets, the dilapidated brick buildings slapped together haphazardly, and the growing number of small children working and lose hope. Or I can see the toddler mounted on the donkey pulling his father’s watermelon cart with a huge smile on his face, the new business that opened around the corner, and the beautiful symphony of busyness humming from the carpenter’s, hammered out by panel-beaters and whispered in the hairdresser’s - glimpses of the resilience of this community.
There is suffering, but there is also a spirit of ‘let’s get on with our lives, somehow we’ll make it through’. Or as Muslim friends have shared with me, the spirit of “Hamdallah” (thanks be to God), said in times of suffering and of celebration because suffering draws us nearer to God, and we will one day transcend it and be rewarded in Heaven. So "Hamdallah" because we are alive on God’s green earth another day, and it is a day to recognize the gifts in our lives, most of which are not material. To live with this perspective is to maintain sanity in a system of instability, and cultivate a wisdom and peace that should not be mistaken for complacency. There is a strength and dignity in Doweika that one comes to appreciate through connections with friends there.
So there may be price hikes and this is causing suffering but somehow we will move forward, with faith and hope, working to find our small niches of support and service.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
