Processing

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Last Friday, as we were preparing to leave, we came across a mother with a severely delayed child. Through the mother’s story, as well as a few of the other children we’ve assessed, I’ve become more aware of the lack of resources available for those who need it most. These circumstances and lack of social support system leads to an encumbered life that is far more difficult than I can ever understand. It has become more difficult to process how I feel about life here as I take in more of the city. The crowded bus stops are filled with the blind and disabled. The mothers are seen holding their seemingly lifeless baby, arm outstretched and begging for a little compassion. In the early morning, the homeless are sprawled between the narrow median that separates opposing traffic. They lay on the small patch of grass as the vehicles pass by, just inches from their extremities. Underneath the clear skies of the church perimeter are people lined up, one after another under muddied tarp. It gets so chilly after dark; I can’t imagine they are warm. There’s a stark contrast between the fortunate and the less-fortunate with little of the population who are in-between.

From my conversations with the Habeshah, there is a strong sense of community here, but I cannot help but wonder how so many within the country are ignored or forgotten. Who is responsible for those who (under such circumstances) cannot help themselves? Normally, I like to believe that every small deed has some potential benefit, but what do you do when you pass by so many individuals that you simply cannot help? How do you process the fact that a bright child will never reach her fullest potential because she will never have the opportunity? I’m not sure how to deal with this or whether I’ll ever figure it out, but I’m working towards some kind of balance.

The reality of the situation seems rather depressing, but it is countered with so much that is positive. What I have noticed through my experience and meeting the various people here is that there’s still so much good out there. I’ve met so many NGOs and organizations with people trying to do what they can for those who are ‘forgotten’. Small strides within the global network, but those are the cornerstone for real changes; or so I like to believe. It’s also shown me the incredible resilience of the human spirit, particularly in children. It’s made me appreciate the relationship between a parent and child and grateful for the relationship that I have with my own. I say this with the utmost respect and admiration, but I am always impressed with the children and what they are wearing during clinic visits. The parent(s) may be in tattered and soiled clothing, but the children are always in their best. The little girls are adorable in their ruffled dresses and beautifully braided hair. One little boy arrived in a flashy stripped gold suit that would have made the men of GQ envious. In short, every day becomes another story that I will never fully understand, but it does become a part of me in a way that changes me.

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Comments

[Mmohamiy]

Would like to do somethin abt it?
Lemme know if we can team up to try few things.