Thursday, 21 February 2008
The "explanation"
I felt the need to step away, if only for a couple of days. I need to abstractly find my way back to me, to you, to faith in us- "us" as in you and me, but also "us" as in people in general. People like you and me, and yet also people very unlike you and me.
This is one tough world to digest.
I need to step away and recover force. I need to leave blame far behind and learn to be morally selfish. I am aware of just how lucky I am, in so many and different ways...but I still belong to this world. I desperately need balance. There's only one person who can give it to me: myself.
I thought this poem was perfect for you.
This is one tough world to digest.
I need to step away and recover force. I need to leave blame far behind and learn to be morally selfish. I am aware of just how lucky I am, in so many and different ways...but I still belong to this world. I desperately need balance. There's only one person who can give it to me: myself.
I thought this poem was perfect for you.
A Special World
A special world for you and me
A special bond one cannot see
It wraps us up in its cocoon
And holds us fiercely in its womb.
Its fingers spread like fine spun gold
Gently nestling us to the fold
Like silken thread it holds us fast
Bonds like this are meant to last.
And though at times a thread may break
A new one forms in its wake
To bind us closer and keep us strong
In a special world, where we belong.
- Sheelagh Lennon -
how ethical is it to give money to people on the streets?
My whole life I've been asked for money by people on the streets. It has never ceased to upset me.
It's a very effective -and unnecessary- reminder of my country's reality. Not only does it make me sad, but it also puts me in a very uncomfortable position: weather I'm walking around or driving in my car, there's something sort of abusive about someone tapping on my shoulder or knocking on my car's window demanding for something I'm supposed to have and obliged to give. Beggars, weather they're young or old, male or female, always have this look; this look: not precisely a sad one, more like a blaming one. While it always makes me feel responsible somehow, it still delivers a clear message of full resignation.
I try to have coins near by, I always carry candy (for children) and in the mornings I usually have one or two extra bananas. But---is that better than nothing? when can it ever be enough?
Money- how much is enough? how much is too little?
Food- is that polite?
Candy- how can a piece of candy help children that should be in school but instead are forced to collect a certain amount of money by the end of the day?
There's this blind woman and her son (I suppose) that come to my window every single morning, and it is really getting me down. I feel so responsible I sometimes try to avoid the street where they usually are, just so that I don't have to be in that so very unfair position. Unfair for both parties, I guess. Whose fault is it? Should they stop asking, should I stop giving, should this go on, is this natural?
Beggars have existed ever since history can tell. That doesn't make it right. It certainly doesn't help me know how to act.
I feel so trapped in this very depressing human reality, frustateddddddddddddddd
It's a very effective -and unnecessary- reminder of my country's reality. Not only does it make me sad, but it also puts me in a very uncomfortable position: weather I'm walking around or driving in my car, there's something sort of abusive about someone tapping on my shoulder or knocking on my car's window demanding for something I'm supposed to have and obliged to give. Beggars, weather they're young or old, male or female, always have this look; this look: not precisely a sad one, more like a blaming one. While it always makes me feel responsible somehow, it still delivers a clear message of full resignation.
I try to have coins near by, I always carry candy (for children) and in the mornings I usually have one or two extra bananas. But---is that better than nothing? when can it ever be enough?
Money- how much is enough? how much is too little?
Food- is that polite?
Candy- how can a piece of candy help children that should be in school but instead are forced to collect a certain amount of money by the end of the day?
There's this blind woman and her son (I suppose) that come to my window every single morning, and it is really getting me down. I feel so responsible I sometimes try to avoid the street where they usually are, just so that I don't have to be in that so very unfair position. Unfair for both parties, I guess. Whose fault is it? Should they stop asking, should I stop giving, should this go on, is this natural?
Beggars have existed ever since history can tell. That doesn't make it right. It certainly doesn't help me know how to act.
I feel so trapped in this very depressing human reality, frustateddddddddddddddd
Tuesday, 19 February 2008
17
17 is just a number, a number I don't really dislike. Well, I can't really think of any number i dislike...what really scares me is what this number, 17, represents to me as a Guatemalan.
17 is the number of people that get killed everyday in my country. 17 is the number of mothers that are going to have their hearts broken everyday. 17 is the number of families that are going to be victims of what appears to be unstoppable violence- everyday, in this country, my country, my Guatemala.
17 is much more than a number to me. it keeps multiplying. it hurts me.
17 is the number of people that get killed everyday in my country. 17 is the number of mothers that are going to have their hearts broken everyday. 17 is the number of families that are going to be victims of what appears to be unstoppable violence- everyday, in this country, my country, my Guatemala.
17 is much more than a number to me. it keeps multiplying. it hurts me.
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