a little this and a little that

Mr. Benigno Simeon Aquino

15^th President of the Republic of the Philippines

Malacanang Palace

Dear President,

            I want to congratulate you sir because of your good performance as our president. Thank you sire for slowly changing the corrupt Philippines into a good one and a good place to live. I wrote this letter because I want to say my opinions and wishes not only for me, but also for the sake of everyone around me. 

            Sir, I want to tell you that my family is in a poor condition right now. My father doesn’t have a permanent job, and my mother is only a housewife who has a small sideline of making beads to earn money. I am the first child of them and I am doing bad in my studies because we don’t have much money to buy and pay my responsibilities and some fees in school.  in short, if possible sir, I wish every head of the family will have permanent jobs to support their families needs and to help their children go to school. I am indeed lucky because even if we don’t have money they are still capable of sending me to school.  Sir, I feel so much pity for the children I see in the busy cities here in Pangasinan. I wish education will be given to them. I wish there will be more teachers, or even volunteers, who will teach even the street children, and help them realize that there is still hope behind every suffering and loss.

            One more thing sir. I am already in high school, and I admit I have grown enough to understand these things. My father was nearly killed by our relative who came from Manila whom we have heard had been in jail before. I fear that he might do it again because he is an alcoholic, and he has done it before.  Another is, my faither is also a politician in our barangay and he always looks for the good things and not the bad things, just like what that man has done to him. I wish every prisoner, before being set free, must have education about what they will have to do after getting out. And also, to be a little more strict in releasing drugs and alcohol.

            Maybe this letter is only trash for the rich who can defend themselves from tehse things but for us, this is an important paper that must be heard and read by every man in the world.

            Thank you for reading my letter.

                                                Respectfully yours,

                                                Queenney Grace Ceduera

One day in class I asked my students to write letters to the president about issues they would like him to address.  President Aquino was elected last year and has symbolized hope for a large percentage of the Filipino population, much like the way Barak Obama does for so many Americans.  I’ve read that the Philippines is the most corrupt non-communist Asian country, and the decrease of that corruption has been portrayed as one of the many focuses of Aquinos’ term.  While many are convinced President Aquino has made giant strides forward in the fields of education and the elimination of corruption, the population seems to be getting anxious. Again, similar to the American population.  It is hard to completely transform a country overnight when so many of its systems have been in place since independence.  Most of my students voiced their frustration with his administration by asking questions such as, “what are you doing about the massacres in MIndinao?” “Why are there so many bus bombings and car jackings now?” “How come our parents don’t have jobs?” “My family is malnourished because the price of food is too high, please lower it,” “Please brings jobs to the Philippines because the OFW’s (Over Seas Foreign Workers) are being mistreated and some are even being killed in other countries.”

I think all of these questions and concerns are very important, as they are the questions and thoughts and words and concerns of Filipino people.  They are being written by the next generation of Filipino leaders.  And, these words display the hearts of the students I work with on a daily basis.  They bring up many important things I’ve wanted to share for a long time, but haven’t known where to begin.  This will be another long rant about this and that, but all issues very relevant to the future of the Philippines.

First, countless students mentioned the massacres and bombings.  The Filipino media is a powerful powerful device, especially for those people who don’t have access to the internet.  Every night the news, which is watched by everyone (if you’ve seen Slumdog Millionaire, think of the scene at the end of the movie scanning over various neighborhoods and homes throughout India), the rich and the poor, the villagers and the city dwellers, depicts bizarre and extreme stories.  There was a bus bombing last week. I still don’t know how many people were injured, but in comparison to some of the worlds’ violent conflicts it wasn’t an overwhelming number of people. I don’t mean to say each life isn’t valuable or that I condone bus bombing or think it’s not that big of a deal, but the way the story was shared  portrayed this one isolated event as if the state would fail within the next 24 hours and chaos would consume the streets of the entire country. 

I don’t’ know how to express my thoughts on this issue, and I don’t want to sound inconsiderate or harsh, but I’m going to attempt to say a few things nonetheless. I worry that my students are developing this image of the Philippines that suggest the country is hopeless and worse than any other country in the world, which is concerning.  During the same time of the bus bombing in Manila, North Africa began to crumble.  This was not an issue any of my students had any knowledge of.  I’m not undermining the significance and tragedy of bus bombings and terrorist activity in the south, BUT, if the Filipino youth grow up perceiving the problems of the Philippines to be out of control and impossible to prevent, if they think the entire country is facing the potential threat of bombs and killings, they will see little hope for the future, and thus little potential for their involvement in the improvement of the Philippines.  They know that they are the sons and daughters of rice farmers, they think their fates are limited, and now they are becoming fearful because of the media’s exploitation of a few isolated incidents of violence.  I think this is a dangerous equation.  What they know jades their ability to dream of a strong and successful future not only for themselves but for their country.  It sounds strange for me to be saying this because I’m not the biggest advocate of nationalism, but at the same time I tend to have communistic tendencies and believe the government should protect and care for its’ people, and similar to the purest form of democracy I feel the people should be the government. 

Moving on.  In regard to a government protecting and caring for its people, one of the biggest problems I see facing the Philippines is the combination of its’ education system and fledgling economy. A significant percentage of the money being earned by Filipinos each year is being earned abroad (I don’t remember the statistic).  These workers are referred to as OFW’s (Overseas Foreign Workers).  Many work in the Qatar, Dubai, Bahrain, Tapai, Hong Kong, Korea, Singapore, the U.S. and Canada.  A majority of these workers work as bar tenders, waiters/waitresses, or maids in various hotels.  In order to qualify for such a position one needs to have a college degree.  Some of these OFW’s have been educated in law and medicine and economics, yet there are no jobs for them here in the Philippines, so they find themselves sweeping hotel carpets in another country.  It is true that a waiter in the Middle East can make more money than a lawyer here in the Philippines.  Problem Number 1 with OFW’s: it creates a huge brain drain in the Philippines. I don’t mean to say that the people who are still here aren’t intelligent, but I mean to say that a significant number of Filipino college graduates end up leaving the country. 

This means there is no internal investment in the country, and the economy is completely reliant on remittances, which creates a very week system with no foundation for self-created evolution.  According to Aquino the Philippines is ranked 67^th on the list of world economies.  This includes the economies of failed and fledgling states.  Unless the Philippines starts providing incentives for people to stay here to work their entire economy is going to be in the hands of other countries, countries that don’t care about the well being of the Philippines.  It will also leave this physical country open for future control by economically stronger states and MNC’s, which, I fear, would create the bottom rung of the economic ladder—sweatshops and inhumane work conditions.  As far as I can perceive this will only further deteriorate the image the average Filipino has of himself/herself, which will continue the system of complacency and acceptance of injustice.  Problem Number 2: I’m fearful that a mentality of service will overcome the country.  While there is no problem with wanting to be hospitable and wanting to help other people, I worry that if an entire countries population find their identity in serving the richer, the more educated, the more powerful, the better, then this mindset will plague the nation until the point where few people view themselves as worthy and capable of education and economic gain and life saving health care.  They will see themselves as servants, and that will become their role in the world.  I think that once a group of people from such a mentality they are easily manipulated, exploited and oppressed and until their situations get unbearable little changes.  Then, when the breaking point has been reached there is often a mass violent reaction and the recovery process for a country after such a scenario is long and filled with a lot of space for more corruption and failure.  Now I don’t think the Philippines will undergo a violent revolution or coup anytime soon, but I do worry that the people will potentially be taken advantage of and will identify themselves as servants, thus dehumanizing themselves. 

Problem 3:  OFW’s make a lot of money by Filipino standards.  A lot.  They sacrifice a lot. They live in strange unfamiliar countries, risking violence and abuse, without seeing their families (something very important in Filipino culture) for potentially years at a time.  They work long hard hours and have little say in anything about their lives.  Most of their money, form what I’ve heard and observed, is sent home to families that then build imitations of Barbie dream mansions, curtains, cars, clothes, gadgets etc.  From what I’ve seen a lot of the families receiving such remittances don’t actually work. They don’t need to because they make more than enough money to live a nice life.  So, we have one person in another country slaving away, and then a family spending that hard earned money, but not pursuing higher education or working to get a job that might potentially strengthen the justice system of the country, or the medical care of those too poor to afford it, or the industry/economic prosperity of the country.  So much money seems to be wasted, and I try to remain culturally sensitive, but I can’t understand this mentality of not working while you are spending someone else’s money.  I guess that shows just how American I am, because the money isn’t one persons, as the family unit here is one.  Everything is shared.  And, I’ve never lived a life of poverty, I’ve never lived under a regime that sends thousands of people “missing,” I’ve never been a servant.  I’m sure if this is the life I had lived at one time I might also take the money, sit back and gamble all day on the balcony of my new house.  It’s a lifestyle that symbolizes freedom. I find this worrisome though for the future of the country.  If such a lifestyle is defined as freedom, then there will be little pressure on the government to give its’ people true freedom. 

I think education is power.  An educated population demands justice, demands freedom, demands truth, demands rights. Look at Iran and North Africa.  Aquino’s agenda targets education.  Currently the Philippines is one of three countries in the world with a 10 year public education system.  Most countries have a 12 year system.  Not only does this mean students graduate from high school at the young, and generally speaking still immature, age of 16 years old, but it also means that two years of curriculum is missing and/or condensed to fit into the shorter time frame.  Interestingly enough the minimum working age in the Philippines is 18 years, unless of course a person is working on his/her families’ farm or vending things on the street.  For people who can’t afford to go to college this leaves them without many options for two years.  That’s two years of no income, and two years of time to get lost in the system. 

Another interesting fact about the education system is that the Department of Education has declared no student can receive a grade lower than a 65% on any assignment or in any class.  This seems strange for a number of reasons.  1) Anything above a 50% is considered passing, and 2) most teachers, at least at the school I’m working at, won’t give a grade higher than a 95%.  This means students who work endless hours to perfect their work may end up receiving a grade just 30% higher than students who may never actually turn in an assignment.  In my mind this seems to create little incentive for students to work.  Similar to communism ( I really do love the system on paper, but history has shown us it’s a greatly flawed system).  Also, how does one determine if a student holding a 65% is holding that grade because he/she did no work, or because they did a lot of work and tried their hardest and that’s the passing grade they earned?  It seems to belittle the work of those who take their studies seriously, and it seems to belittle the students who do no work. If I was a student who did no work and earned a passing grade of 65%, I would feel like the educational system had no hope in me and just wanted me to move through the motions so they could spit me out sooner than later.  I would feel they wouldn’t have faith I would be capable of earning a grade for myself so they were “gifting” me with their pity.  This would make me discouraged and possibly even more apathetic. 

The point of this rant is to say Aquino has passed a bill authorizing a 12 year education plan.  It’s called K-12.  People have been debating the issue for a while.  The rich argue this is a great system, while the poor argue that they can’t afford two more years of school for their children so their children will need to drop out early, thus they will no longer have the ability to hold a high school diploma.  A lot of the parents here on Anda are those that fear the system will dig the pits of poverty even deeper for their families.  And, it’s probably true.  At least for a few generations.  School is expensive here, even public school.  The books and uniforms and project supplies need to be bought, but there are also payments in order to take an exam, there are payments for the physical maintenance of the school, all students pay in order for the school to send a select few high achieving students to various conferences in different places, and there are the random “donations” students are expected to pay for various events.  Parents are already struggling to keep the kids of the family who are attending school registered. 

While I have the advantage of having enough money for food and shelter and internet, a lot of people I live with do not.  While I can say, “hold on.  just wait. This will benefit your family and your country in the future,” most people can only say, “my family will have no future if we have no money to build a house safe enough to stand the typhoons,” or “we already go without the medicine or food we need. Two more years of high school for each of my children is too much for me to afford.”  Both they and I are living for the future, however when I envision my future I see myself years from now still without a family to worry about.  They see themselves struggling tomorrow to fight the cruel shackles of life with an entire family dependent on the success of their battles with typhoon after typhoon.  I believe in education and I believe the implementation of k-12 will greatly benefit the people of the Philippines, but who am I as the white American girl who’s leaving in a year and a half to tell my neighbors to increase their stakes in this gamble with fate they face on a daily basis? 

On paper everything is simple. It all makes sense.  In your head the world is clear.  You can theoretically lay it all out.  But, when it comes to real life and real peoples’ lives, the world becomes twisted, blurring all lines are pens have drawn.  I can’t say if I had a family I wouldn’t go abroad to work as a maid if I knew it would give my family the money they need to live a healthy, safe, and stable life—even if that meant as a lawyer or doctor I’d be neglecting the needs of my neighbors.  I can’t say if I were a typical Andanian parent I wouldn’t too be furious and fearful about the new K-12 program.  I think too often in the United States our universities act as bubbles segregating us from reality.  We read and write about real issues. We debate them over coffee and we watch documentaries showing us what’s beyond our walls.  But, there are some things academia doesn’t teach us.  For instance, it doesn’t teach us how to respond to a crying parent worn thin by poverty and a love for her children.  It doesn’t teach us how to hold hands with the victims of failed economies.  It doesn’t teach us it’s nearly impossible to tell people there is such a big vast world beyond a minor bombing in a way that doesn’t demean a persons’ concerns and feelings.  I have no answers, but I do have the words of another wise student I pray will hold onto her vision and passion no matter where her life sends her. 

To the Youth

By: Venus C. Orlando

Wake up young man and rise

There is much to do for the wise

Do not forego the precious chance

The gift of life comes only once.

Why do you quiver, why don’t you stand?

Everything around you is at your command

You are strong, articulate, and bright

Defend, protect, exercise your right.

Our country waits for you to create

Sculptures and paintings that are great

The best songs, poems, dramas to portray

Scientific inventions to play.

The nations and country’s needs are too many

Our people call for you to give

Honesty and loyalty to duty

A lean and happy life to live.

Wake up young man and rise

Who are you waiting for?

Your beloved country cries

Serve her forever more!

anger to hope i hope

***Warning: this is just a a typical kaitlin mcgarvey nonsensical angry/confused/hopefully hopeful but maybe just exhausted rant***

I don’t know how to start.  There’s a lot on my heart.  A lot my being is trying to understand and talk out.  When you are in a place that speaks a very different language than yours, both of which you’re regressing in, you realize sometimes life makes the most sense when words aren’t verbally spoken, but you also realize other times without anyone to ramble and rant and process with, pieces of the world fill you until there’s nowhere left for tomorrow to go.  And thus, we get pages of confused thoughts and feelings and words.  It’s funny though, because in order to help me figure out what words I’m struggling with internally, I turned on one of my favorite songs, “Kothbiro,” which is in a language I don’t speak, Swahili.  It brings clarity to the world and cleanses me of worry. 

And so I begin.

I’m a runner.  I think I’ve always ran.  Not physically jogging around the park or straining my knees on a treadmill, but I run and I don’t stop.  I like to think I’m always running to something, but in reality most of my life has been running away from things. I like to think I put on this facade of being afraid of nothing, but as everyone who knows me can surely tell, I’m afraid of everything real, everything true, everything that really matters.  I’m not afraid of death or being beat up or getting a disease or of spiders or of getting lost on a train in a new country. Those things mean nothing. People say the worst that can happen is death, but I’ve always thought death is sort of the nice easy way out of things.  I don’t mean that I think death is great and everyone should start killing other people so we can all go live in peace in some other world, but I mean when you see a person slowly starving to death or meet a person who has watched and participated in the killing of their family or hear the silence of a baby suffering of AIDS you almost wish death would come and free them from their suffering. And when you realize that you are too weak to help them escape their agony, you start to wonder why we were given life. the world becomes to much to bear, too real and harsh, and you think even if there is no life after this one, at least the suffering will also turn to dust and be scattered by the gracious wind. 

I lack strength, and this is one of my greatest fears. I also fear that I lack love. I fear I have no contribution to transforming the world’s hopes into realities.  And as my running has taken me to some of the most tragically beautiful places in the world I see, hear and feel things I know I can’t stop.  And so I run.  I convince myself that the more I run, the more knowledge and experience I’ll have to help someone somewhere in the world. 

I ran to the Philippines.  I am now here. I’ve reached the physical destination, but each day the emotional, mental and spiritual destination have yet to be realized. 

I’m in one of the most peaceful places I can imagine.  The Philippines struggles with corruption and an increasingly restless population and a plethora of other problems related to crime and economic crisis, however, Anda is an oasis of peace.  It’s a life I enjoy living, a life shared with people I enjoy living with. 

Even though I selfishly ran here for my own purposes of discovery or experience or whatever else it could be, it is the first time I feel I might be impacting a person or two.  A friend used to tell me to slow down and stop worrying about all the social and political problems of the world.  No one could change every corrupted man made system.  He told me to focus on the individuals, and take every smile and every word with a single person as a step towards changing the world, for it’s only through pure genuine human relationships that the world will be changed.  While I believed this statement in theory and told other people to live by a similar philosophy, the hypocritical part of myself told me I needed to end every war, every case of poverty, every disease, every moment of abuse. 

I don’t know why the world was created or why we are here. I don’t believe in religion, but I do believe in a divine presence, a supernatural creator of some sort.  Some call it God, others the Universe, others The Supernatural.  Whatever It is, I think It did create us for a purpose.  And that thought continues to wrestle with itself inside of me.  I get so angry at It so often.  The world is full of so much hatred and pain and anger and aggression and violence and injustice and greed and selfishness.  It’s a terrible place. I like to believe that this Divine Presence is more knowledgeable than any human being, and due to my Christian upbrining I think I’ve come to adopt the concept of an all-knowing Divine entity.  Nothing angers me more than this thought.  It’s a juvenile frustration, but I’ve never been able to move beyond the problem of evil.  How is it that an all knowing, all powerful, all present God could/would create such a world where She/He/It would know it was creating life only to be destroyed time after time again?  This struggle defeats me and more often than not leaves me with immense grief.  What are we supposed to do? What’s the purpose of all of this? If there’s something better after this, why not just fast-forward, why even have this world?  if the problems will only continue, and our work makes no headway, what’s the point? 

My host family noticed I’m thoroughly entertained by animals, so a few weeks ago they gave me a puppy.  As you would probably expect from a dog of mine, he’s a little handful.  He’s become a pretty tough little man, he has to be to survive, but he can’t sleep unless he’s snuggled in this bizarre contorted manner across my stomach and through my left arm.  He rests his heart right where my heart beats.  Intertwined together we sit under the stars like this for a while and when he is completely sound asleep I put him on his blanket so he can sleep for the night. 

One night as I was putting Todd to sleep I had a little epiphany. Not a huge discovery or anything, but something reaffirmed my belief that we were created to love each other.  We were created to connect and share life with other life.  I’ve been here for six months, and in those six months I can probably count the times I’ve had physical contact with another person on my right hand.  That’s, of course, excluding all the super awkward and uncomfortable touching of my love handles or non-existent butt form my co-workers, but it made me incredibly grateful for Todd.  Just having that physical contact with another living, breathing being makes me feel more whole, more complete.  I don’t know why the world is so terrible and messed up, but I do know we are here to share it with other living things.  We are here to feel each other’s pain and joy. We are here to support and love each other. And we are here to question and mourn and hate the injustice together. 

I started a writing club several weeks ago, and I was sure it would just be another one of my many failures in life. I was sure instead of creating an environment that would allow people to discover their love of writing; I would somehow instead make them resent writing, and thus their feelings and thoughts.  I was sure  students would stop coming after the first week or so.  A miracle has happened there is a huge group of students who seem to thrive off of this opportunity to write and express themselves every week.  I hold 5-6 hour long sessions a week, divided by class section, because there are too many students for me to work with in just one session. 

I’ve never been a mother, but I feel so connected to these students and so protective of them that my heart breaks and my heart rejoices on a daily basis.  I ran here having no idea what I was getting myself into, and I’m so grateful that this is where I found myself because the students I work with are absolutely amazing, and I so badly want to help them. Unfortunately, because I was running I fear that I’m not the right person for them. I’m not qualified and I don’t have the experience they could use to help them improve their school-work.  But, for some reason the students have started opening up to me. I’m so full of gratitude for their willingness to share their lives with me, but I’m ashamed to say such a thing because so many of them have so much suffering in their lives. 

Some of the best people in the world are some of my best friends, and they are working on a fundraiser to get money so we can get some books at my school.  I told my writing club about it and they wanted to write pieces that could contribute to the fundraisers.  There is one section of students several people at the school told me would be a waste of time to focus on for the club.  They told me these students wouldn’t take it seriously, and that there was no possibility of improvement for them.  I was working with them earlier this week, which will lead me to two stories.

The first:

I was explaining some of the editing I had done on a story written by one of the students. The story was about the lives of her grandparents and her parents.  When it is completely finished she told me I could share it with people in the United States so I’ll post it on here.  Until then, you’ll have to trust me when I say there is something about this story of her family that elicits such a strong emotional response that you don’t know what to do.  You want to heal the world, but you know you can’t, so you simply sit in awe of the courage and strength and resilience and desperation of her family.  The thing is it’s not a story that stands out from the other stories of students’ families.  It’s not an unfamiliar story for me. it’s the story of the family I’m living with and the story of my neighbors. It’s the story of your average Filipino family living in poverty.  I think that’s why it’s so profound. The words and the sentences are simple. Her English isn’t advanced enough for much more, but the sentences and words mimic the lives of her family. Short and sharp and predictable.  The story is all-too familiar and all-too real.  It is the story of people battling each day for survival. The desire for survival doesn’t come from an abundance of wealth that can be spent on travel and adventure and good food and technology and a safe house.  it comes from the desire for human connection and a desire for companionship. 

This same girl wrote me a thank you note for helping her gain strength as she’s dealing with a very very difficult home situation at the moment. She said she has been using writing to help her release her feelings, and she thanked me for telling her that her writing was good because she was always scared to write because she’s in the lowest section. She said it inspired her to think it might be possible to have a different life than the one she was before expecting to have.  I have no idea how this happened simply through the writing club, but I’ve never received a more meaningful thank you note. I was overcome with pride for her and her accomplishments and I was filled with anger towards life for hurting her in the ways it has.

The second:

In that same group, I have found that the girls are willing to make mistakes and experiment with their words. They are much more willing to write than the boys are, but the boys continue to come to every meeting.  I want the boys to start expressing themselves too, and I want them to gain confidence in their work. I decided to do a little experiment. Most boys here love violence. They love war and they love fighting.  I think war is just an “exotic” topic for them as they spend all their time fishing or in the rice fields.  It’s something “manly” and adventurous.  This kills me a little inside, but I decided it would be an opportunity to get the boys to write. 

I have the movie Blood Diamond on my computer, so on Monday I told them we would be watching a move about a war.  They were thrilled. I started the movie for them and they were mesmerized. They were impressed with the guns and the jeeps and the alcohol and drugs.  They would cheer at different points of brutality.  I then paused the movie and pulled out my map to show them the very real country where the war had taken place, and I told them the stories of the child soldiers I met and worked with in Uganda to give them perspective on the lives of the boys drinking and doing drugs in the movie. 

Now, before I had pressed play I was not entirely convinced this would work. I was fully aware that they might just think I endorsed such insane behavior, or that they still wouldn’t do the writing assignment at the end of the movie, or that they might start fighting more at school.  The negative possibilities were endless in my mind, but I also thought that it might possible compel them to write. 

Blood Diamond is a three hours movie, so on Monday I had to stop it after an hour and I told them that I wanted them to start writing about the war in Sierra Leone from the perspective of a child soldier.  I wanted them to explain what they felt and saw and tasted and heard. I wanted them to explain the things they did and didn’t do and the things they missed about life before war.  

The next day that group of boys came to me during their vacant to see if they could watch more of the movie even though it wasn’t our club meeting time. I put it on for them and this day explained the trade of conflict minerals, diamonds and oil.  I explained how developed countries and MNC’s sponsor these wars in countries very similar to the Philippines to become richer.  I talked about the current war in Congo and how countries just continue to turn a blind eye decade after decade.  The boys became solemn and quiet and were writing in their notebooks as they were watching.  I wasn’t sure if they were writing for the assignment I had given them or if they were doing hw for another class, but I just let them write. 

There was no more cheering, and there were a lot more questions after I stopped the movie on Tuesday.  I was worried that this might be too brutal or harsh for them, but I feel they’ll be okay in handling it. They’re about to graduate are seeking information about the world beyond Anda.  I’m also sure to follow every negative writing assignment with something more positive that way the negativity isn’t the only emotion being manifested through their words.  As they were walking out of the room they each came up to me and showed me what they had been writing.  Each of them had an entire notebook page written (I haven’t seen them write more than 5 sentences for any in class writing assignment, so this is huge). They told me they weren’t finished yet, but that they were working hard on ideas and that they were writing their own words/not copying (another huge success).  They said thank you for sharing with them about this war. I’ve never seen them act so mature and so responsible with their work. It’s as if me treating them as intelligent people who are able to hear and think about complicated issues despite their poor grades and school comprehension, completely transformed their attitudes towards themselves.  Keep in mind these same students spent todays’ class reading the poem humpty dumpty. I have no doubt if I was about to graduate high school and was treated like a child unable to comprehend real issues, I too would be discouraged and unmotivated.  

Today in class I gave my second year classes the option of two writing assignments.  The first was to write a mythical adventure about a hero who undergoes a personal transformation.  The second was to write a letter to the president about world issues they want they president to address.  I was sure most students would write the first option because they love fictional stories that involve magic and unkown creatures and power etc, but many students wrote the letter.  So many students wrote about poverty and asked the president to get more jobs for their parents and to lower the prices of food because their families are all malnourished. 

I feel like I live this blissful life here. I walk with the cariboua as the sun is setting, I find peace in the rice fields, I love the simple yet complex lifestyle.  But, the truth is I’m not living in poverty.  Not truly. Maybe compared to life in the United States, but not really compared to my neighbors.  I get to leave in two years.  I know every month that your tax dollars will be sent to feed me and pay for my rent.  Even though I have many moments of hunger I get enough calories, and if I really wanted to I could go to the market to get more food, and the peace corps sends me vitamins and minerals to supplement the ones my diet doesn’t have.  I’m spoiled. I go to school all day but when I come home I just have to grade papers and read and write and bathe and wash my clothes etc, but so many of my students have to take care of their siblings and work in the fields and do a plethora of other things necessary for survival. 

Poverty is a tragic thing, and it’s something that affects such a significant percentage of the world. I have many thoughts on this issue as I’m reading more and more books on economics, but that’s for another time. 

I guess I wrote all this to say I don’t understand life. I don’t understand why suffering exists, and why it exists on so many levels. I’m on this beautiful island where life is peaceful compared to war torn countries, but there is still great pain and great despair. There is hunger and there is poverty.  There is abuse and there is depression.  All of these things are interconnected just like all people are.  I think suffering is felt on different levels and a person suffering from poverty and malnutrition is affected more extremely by it than, say, someone like me, but I also believe that the suffering of a single person is felt by the whole world. As long as one person is hungry the world can’t reach its’ fullest potential, thus all life is affected.  Until we take the time to realize our humanity is the direct result of protecting the humanity of other people, we will never know really know why we are here on earth or what life means.  We will never understand the Cosmos, for God is most understood when move beyond ourselves and see the whole image of creation, when we realize how little and insignificant we are, but how vital each breath of every human being is to our enlightenment, to our purpose, to our communion.