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Published: December 16th 2009
Week Two
This second week has been so much of a whirlwind that I have been putting off writing this blog- for lack of words, lack of explanation, Ive been racking my brain trying to figure out how to fit all ive seen into words. so i apologise if my ramblings do not make sence!
When you arrive home from a trip such as this one (although no trips are alike) you tend to recieve the same kinds of questions. "what was it like?" "was it heaps different?" "what was hard?" "did you struggle because x was different?"
How can two worlds of rich and poor exist together and yet be miles apart?
The last week the food for thought has been the divine spark in each of us, the one thing that connects all humans, no matter what living conditions, no matter what mistakes, no matter what personality. I believe is the one thing that gives each of us intrinsic worth and dignity.
But can this be put into practice? Can we really love EVERYONE? is everyone really the same underneath it all?
I made a trip to Tondor this week, a rubbish dump that a charity has sewn into and built a school and livelihood program out of, On first arrival to these sites I almost always think... Holy crap. No matter how pretentious it seems I always seem to think that Ive seen it all.. but lucky me never seems to get desensitised to things I see. Im one of the suckers that has tears for every world vision add. I say lucky because, I would hate to get to the stage where what I saw didnt make my stomach turn, didnt set my heart on fire to try and do something about it.
I looked around and immediately saw children under the age of 15 sniffing "rugby" (solvent), some shying away embarrased by there actions but others yelling out in a drugged state asking for their photo to be taken. children playing in the rubbish, Families bathing, cooking and playing in the same shared space. As you look around, one thing stands out above all the rest.
The smiles.
The welcome you receive when walking into areas such as these is amazing. There is also an amazing amount of pressure. Show these people that you love them, that they are worth more then this, that they deserve just as much as any one born into mansions.
How on earth do you do that?
As i walk some children follow, some children continue playing, some children throw objects into a burning fire on the dump site and one child holds onto my hand, like any 8 year old, he is dying to have a turn on my camera. Westerners tend to have an inherent fear of poverty, "dont look at the homeless guy hes just trying to get your money" "dont make eye contanct with the street children, they'll never leave you alone"
so i guided little hands towards his friends playing on a broken trike and helped him to push down the button, Pride and excitement immediately rushed across his face as he saw that he had taken a photo. All of a sudden he became an amateur photographer, closeups, landscape and portrait shots dragging my hand still tied up in the camera chord with his.
How do you show someone that you love them, that they are worth it?
Give them your trust.
Not because theyve earnt or need or asked for it.
A few nights later I had spent the majority of the day working in the papaya school with the children and then at mango house in the afternoon. I was wearing my typical "work" clothes-cotton pants, t-shirt and thongs.
I was heading out with Craig to visit Laguna- an area still flooded by Ondoy. The night before the trip Mark (craigs driver) and I were wandering around the mall doing an errand for a friend of craigs. A member of the professional women of AMCHAM. We arrived at a five start hotel to deliver the package. A beautiful woman dressed as audrey hepburn apeared to greet us and ushered me in, telling me how lovely it was to have me with them! (I had heard of the invitation prior to arriving but assumed it was a polite gensture that would be quickly distinguished upon the appearance of my attire)
Looking down at my thongs and t-shirt which by now had a smear of icecream across the material my heart jumped into my throat.
Like a fish out of water I found my self ordering an ice tea from a waiter while nervously pulling my ratty shoulder bag over the icecream stain. I looked around the room, My paranoia set in as a took in the poise and refinement around me. just as i was clicking my heels wishing that I was walking through Tondor with the street children I was greeted by some of the business women, Giving me their card I quickly apologised for not having one to give them in return (laughing at myself in my head.. what would it say? "Tealyn- freelance volunteer" hah )
Cringing further and further towards the corner i suddently wondered, what makes these amazing women different from the children and families in Tondor? wealth and success were obvious but did they still share that divine spark? could these women possibilty have something in common with the children from Tondor?
I started to come foreward, now curious I spoke with some of the women, Pleasantly surprised that no body mentioned my icecream stain and some people even commented "gee i wish i was wearing my slippers (thongs)!" I started to relax and began to really enjoy myself. All of the women were fabulously welcoming joking and laughing with me- the australian girl in the cotton pants.
Should i be angry that these women are so succesful and the children i met the other day were so poor? should i resent them for living in such a different world from them, ignorant of the suffering around them?
The women took me in to their world as though i was one of them, just as i tried to include the boy from tondor in mine. But where was the connection? There was still something missing from the pattern...
The very next day we made our trip to Laguna. Hearing from the locals that the situation was actually quite improved we journeyed out any way to see how the people were living. We arrived and saw that the entire bottom story of most of the squatter houses were completely underwater. We travelled out the families on a makeshift bridge on stilts. the bridge/bamboo beam barely was the width of my foot and i could feel the beam bending under the pressure as i walked. the locals came out of what was left of there houses as they saw us comming. eager to help us they gave us some bamboo poles to balance with. bursting wth gratitude i clung to my bamboo stick as i edged slowely along the beam. we came to a family that was housing from memory (which isnt functioning too well with my flu at the moment) about 7 people in the top story of their house. Craig and the journalist began an interview and so as i was waiting i sat down beside one of the male residents of the village. HE offered to take me around on his boat to see the rest of the settlement. I jumped at the opportunity and started looked for a boat of somekind. He ushered me towards a styrofoam block with a hatchwork of ply wood over the top. I stumbled very awkwardly into the middle and off we went. I was amazing at just how many families were still living in the flooded conditions. so many houses were destroyed and the remnants lay. but there were also so many families still living in the parts of their house that could still function. Many of them were using their roof tops for storage, and built stairs leavding the the roof from the bottom story window. Children waved and yelled Heloooo from their homes and I returned the greeting, trying to fight back the tears. the lifestyle they had adapted to seemed almost normal. The resiliance i saw was amazing, There was even a small hint of humour among the residences as I saw a rubber duck tied to the outside of a house.
A lone teddy bear stood jutting out above the flood water. missing an eye and tied to a bamboo pole It stood as a blatent reminder of something someone once told me.
"children will grow up where ever you put them" and so they were all around me, when i knew i would be driving out of here in less then an hour in an airconditioned vehicle. Where was the justice in that? was that fair? was it even right? What could i do do make a difference now?
Love them.
As i returned i was quickly ushered into one of the homes. As though i was a long awaited relative that was soposed to be here an hour ago. I saw that Craig and Sunshine were interviewing still and i was ushered to a seat by the window with what looked like the grandmother and the baby. One of the ladies stood close to me so that she could fan me while also fanning herself i realise that they havent even asked us why were are here, not even the journalist. This all seems very nice and welcoming and like such a touching moment. but do you really understand just how much love is involved?
lets take away the developing country backdrop for a moment. lets take away the typhoon and the poverty. Imagine your sitting on your porch. some people start walking down your street. taking photos of the houses and even your house! Would you rush down the driveway and usher them in? sit them down next your baby and fan them while they asked you questions about how you live?
In 48hours id been invited into 2 completely different worlds. They are miles apart. I didnt ask for either of them. Neither of them asked who I was or why i was there or even why i wanted to be with them.
And yet there i was. sitting with both on either side of me close enough for me to touch.
did the professional women of AMCHAM really have the same divine spark of the children in tondor or the squatters of ondoy?
the generousity and humility shown to me is living proof that its true.
If they could both love me equally then why should i not be able to love them equally?
Rich or poor. starving or sitting in a mansion. worlds apart.. but if you look close enough they are almost touching. separated by one thing. one human being,
It was me for a day, it could be you tomorrow, but are you wlling to see the spark in everyone?
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Craig Burrows
non-member comment
Wow
Tea, Thank you, you put it so well. Having you here is such a blessing.