So it turns out I might in fact e a blogger. Or maybe I’m just realizing that my memory is worthless and I don’t want to forget the things that have struck me as important over these last few days. Or maybe it’s that some things never change and I’m still a procrastinator/use this to keep from studying a language my mouth can’t quite master the sounds of. Or maybe it’s that I want to feel like I’m communicating with someone (I can say I’m envious of the married couples here who have shared experiences/someone to laugh with during those strange moments…who would have ever thought I’d be saying that [the marriage part not the shared experiences part]). Or maybe it’s that I’m super self absorbed and like to hear my self ramble and feel my ramblings are worth sharing with other people. Or maybe it’s just that I like to type.
My blog is becoming several series of long KH length posts. Haha speaking of that I had a dream last night that was pretty funny and allowed me to wake up in a super good mood.
The song “I want to be a billionaire” is blasting on the basketball court right now.
So, the things I don’t want to forget. Actually, these are things that I don’t think I could forget because they are things we all see and feel and experience on a regular basis. Maybe that’s why I feel like I want to remember. I don’t want to become numb to these things or pass them by. I don’t want to become desensitized.
I’ve been thinking about desensitization a lot since I’ve been here (haha I make it sound like I’ve been here forever when really it’s been no time at all). I’ve been very privileged throughout my life and have had incredible experiences all over the world, including the U.S. I’ve been exposed to a diverse realm of beautiful things I often refer to as “good” as well as things that seem unbearable that I call “bad.” I know some people don’t think there are such things as good and bad, and sometimes I struggle with the concept of dualism (this is a discussion for a different time), BUT there are just some things that even the best philosophers couldn’t convince me are “not bad.” Not that those philosophers would term those “not bad” things “good,” just that there are things something in my soul tells me are wrong and bad and not good. Now, that doesn’t mean that I think good can’t come from any situation, or anyone could gain something positive from most experiences...it’s just…I guess… some individuals and some populations seem to be faced with horrific suffering and injustice that seem to be more than any human should ever experience.
Now this is when I get caught up in my whole argument that there are good and bad things. Fortunately, and unfortunately, I’ve been able to witness and experience the oppression of people from the corners of Hollywood streets to the slums of India to the jungles of Congo. I’ve met faces that tell stories of pain beyond anything I can imagine and the cries of those who have lost hope have kept me up countless nights as people’s histories are constantly replayed through my mind. Each pair of eyes, each hand, each mouth holds so much truth and so much potential. Unfortunately, our world hasn’t evolved to a point where that potential can be reached by all. In my young naïve place of being right now, I think this is not because those individuals haven’t taken advantage of the opportunities around them, or that those individuals are incapable, or that those individuals have failed to reach a state of realization that allows them to realize they are blessed in their suffering.
I think, rather, it’s because humanity is scared of that which is different. This includes other people. So, as a coping mechanism to deal with our insecurities and our fears we assume power over others (sometimes monetarily/economically, sometimes physically, sometimes technologically etc.), and we create systems that harm and destroy other than support and prosper our larger potential as one humanity.
So, yes I realize the degradation of any person by another is actually inhibiting the progress and peace of the entire human race, but that suffering, I believe, is felt more by the individuals at the mercy of these power games than those in charge of moving the pieces around the board.
I promise I have a point, and I’ll get on track in a moment. Refer to disclaimer about KH length.
I don’t have the strength to deal with the suffering of others the way I probably should. It breaks me. I know I have a tendency to be dramatic, but I’m serious when I say it sometimes makes my physically ill or uncontrollably depressed. It’s too much to bear. How do people keep breathing when the world has nothing to offer them? How do people like me pass by so many people in need of one thing or another without ever taking the time to love? If fear is the problem of the world, the root of the suffering, love is the key. When we open ourselves to love we become attached. Some argue attachment is a negative thing, but I think it could be a positive thing. It is when we are attached to other hearts and souls and faces and stories and histories that we see beyond ourselves and see the interconnectedness of all life. When we reach this awareness we demand change and we contribute to change and we are change and we feel and pray and love and feed.
That’s why I say my argument about good and bad is lacking. If you like to argue you might say, if it weren’t for my exposure to all the suffering, then maybe I would be stuck in my bubble disconnected from all that is being experienced by those around me. But,, I can assure you that would be giving too much credit to me and my abilities. I could say though that if some people out there in the world have met the saints I have, then they could effectively work on making the world a better place for all people. The only problem with this is it remains a very self focused way of perceiving good out of the bad, as it keeps the person with power at the top (he/she is the one who got the “good” out of the “bad” after all), while the suffering is still being felt by those without power (the term I’m using for power I mean economic power or physical power etc, not the power of resilience or joy which I may get to later).
I feel like that was one giant disclaimer about how I got to what I’m about to address.
Desensitization. When I’m exposed to so much pain, despair, suffering, hopelessness, struggle etc etc etc I become overwhelmed. I begin to wonder if anything can ever change and I realize that the best way for me not to completely shut down, which will physically happen, is if I separate myself from time to time from the things I’m seeing or the people I’m meeting. I don’t want this to be true because when we separate ourselves the hierarchies are formed to divide people into groups of “us” and “them.” I really think we need connections and we need to realize there is no “us” or “them”, it really is just “we.”
If anyone is reading at this point I’m thoroughly impressed because lets face it this is making no sense and I’m getting nowhere.
Basically, the moral of the story is I don’t want to become desensitized. I don’t want to forget that I’ve felt things and had experiences like the ones I’m about to write.
Yesterday, the day of my happy blog post, I went to get that ridiculous internet gizmo device magical piece of technology that really is just a temperamental character refusing to assist in my communication efforts. As we, the other PCT’s and I, first got to the area of town that had the store we needed to go to we saw a bakery that’s apparently famous for its’ cakes. After the store we decided to experiment and try some of these cakes. I got a bottle of tea and a small chocolate cake thing. The combined price was about PP40 (less than a dollar).
I’m living on a PC budget, which means I don’t really have a ton of money at all ,by any means. Enough to survive, but for someone who typically lives in abundance survival mode is difficult (note: my survival mode included enough money for me to buy a tea and cake). Of course there are street children and homeless adults here in the Philippines. There are homeless people all over the world. It sounds cliché but I’ve always had a heart for the homeless. I’ve met so many incredibly beautiful and wise and loving people on the streets and I can honestly say I would not be who I am without many of the conversations and relationships I’ve had with people I’ve met who aren’t fortunate enough to have a roof over their heads at night. Their contributions to my worldview and my passions for the world are too many to count.
I don’t know what to do when you see a homeless person. Do you just smile if you don’t have time to talk or go to lunch, or do you drop some cash, or do you give the granola bar from your purse, or do you…who knows? I don’t think any one thing is always right as no two people are the same and everyone needs/would like something different, but no matter what, if I have some cash, I try to give what I have if I don’t have time to take someone to lunch or spend some time talking to them. It’s the least I can do I often think.
Well, as you can guess by now, I don’t know what to do here in the Philippines because I’m learning how to budget my Pesos and I rarely have enough to go around to all the kids so the whole debate of “which-kid-and-why-that-kid-and-not-the-others” starts to ensue. My excuse my first couple days here for not giving as I might have given in the past is that I don’t have any money. I really don’t. Especially when you compare it to the amount of money I normally have when in a different country or in the states.
So, yesterday, coming out of the bakery a group of kids comes up to me as I was walking and eating this chocolate delight. The cake and tea was a splurge for me but it was worth it in my mind. YET, the day before when a group of kids asked for money in the market I said no. I could have given them those Pp40, but I said no and I bought a mini cake and tea.
My already sipped tea and my already bitten cake. I gave both of these things to the kids asking for money and/or food. When they were pulling on me I looked at them and I knew I literally had no money to give them because I bought that ridiculous cake (as if I need more sugar that I already get in my Filipino diet) I felt this huge realization and simultaneous disgust come over me. All I had to offer was this worthless, already contaminated with my germs tea and cake. I considered my computer but that would be useless to them as I didn’t have my charger and even if I did, where would they charge it. I thought about my bracelets, but I don’t have any of monetary value. A bitten cake and sipped tea. That’s all I had to give them. I looked at them and told them that’s all I had and their faces lit up. They were thrilled that I was willing to give them, essentially, my left over snack. I had first dibs, and they got the leftovers.
Who am I? Who am I to offer someone my leftovers? Who am I to not share my money no matter how limited? Who am I to try to separate myself from the feelings I have for the street children because I can’t bare to think there is nothing I can offer them? Who am I? I never want to be desensitized, but I think it’s my survival technique as tragic as that sounds. I don’t think desensitization is beyond me, and I’m afraid I will become one of the individuals I criticize for not looking at other people with the awareness and recognition that each person is truly human and deserves whatever dignity and respect I could possibly offer a person.
On a happier note, tonight returning from my rabbies shot, I was sitting in the back of the jeepney. I was all the way in the front touching the back of the drivers’ seat. As I offered my fare my white skin must have stood out because the man in the passenger seat quickly turned around to see me. This man, I’m guessing, is related to the driver and the driver is responsible for caring for him as he isn’t able to do so for himself. I’m not sure what disease he may have had but it was something that prohibited him from being able to smile fully and semi-crippled his arms as well as neglected each hand of a few fingers.
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