When you are asked
for money by someone who doesn't have any, you have a split second to decide;
yes or no, to give or not to give.
I've come across all
types of scenarios, within Canada and without, where I had to make this
decision and it never gets any easier. Three main situations stand out in my
memory, with one happening just recently that I want to share and lay bare the
workings of a mind still unsettled about what is the best choice.
1. Tuesday, Calgary, Canada. Outside of a C-train station
As I was carrying my
grocery bags home I was asked outside of a c-train station if I had any spare
change. Out of reflex I said no then stared dumbly as the consciousness of the
weight of my groceries pressed sharply into my hand. The woman with an older
man by her side smiled cheerfully and said “Okay, by the way I love your hair!”
I thanked her and tilted my head to the side so she could touch the curls if
she wanted (which is also a reflex of mine). After looking more closely she
gave me more compliments and I returned them feeling quite at ease. She told me
then it was her Uncle’s Birthday today and he was turning 45. I wished him a
Happy Birthday and he seemed genuinely pleased. I turned to go still mulling in
my head what should I do or if this was just a ploy, when she asked me one last
thing holding both hands out “do you need a ticket for the train?”
My heart thumped, she
was giving to me.
2. Beijing, China. Inside a subway car
I was sitting on the
subway headed to a friend’s house, when an old woman entered with her hair all
ragged and wearing soft toe shoes, the kind that silently glide across the
floor. She had a cane and was stopping every few feet bowing and asking for
money. I starred at my e-reader hoping the uncomfortableness would end. When she came up to me I made eye contact and
shook my head slightly. Instead of moving on she stared at me and insistently
asked. When I didn’t reply she started jabbing at my knee. Feeling picked out
and picked on, I had an overwhelming feeling of anger and wanted to kick back.
Long after she left
my pulse was still racing and my mind was irritated.
3. Phnom Penh,
Cambodia. On a sidewalk
When I went to Southeast Asia on a study abroad with the University of
Calgary I was 19 and it was my first time traveling independent of my parents
and family. We were given half a day in the Capital to explore so I ran out,
headed to a promenade that banked on the Tonlé Sap River if I remember correctly. I went strolling about enjoying the
humidity and sunshine when not too far from me I spied a bench with a man lying
stretched out with his head covered, and a few feet away a woman with two
little children sitting on the ground. I knew well enough that the man most
likely was her husband and the women was begging with her children. Once I
reached them she motioned to me and made the universal gesture of wanting food
by putting her hand to her mouth. I was fresh out of a developmental studies
class so was resistant to give money but got some bread to share. Perhaps
because of my willingness to get food she also motioned to me to look at one of
her children. She lifted up his shirt and I saw a rash with small red marks
like chickenpox or bug bites all across it.
I don’t quite remember all the
details but somehow I ended up at a pharmacy store. She had written down on a
piece of paper names of medicines and had directed me there. I was extremely self-conscious
of the fact that I didn’t know the language, and the seller knew I was doing
someone else’s bidding. I wondered if this happened a lot and if I truly was
getting medicine for the kids or medicine that could be sold again at a higher
retail rate. What stuck out the most though was how expensive it was. If this
was the price of medicine for a small child no one in poverty can ever afford
to get sick. Returning back to the women who I now considered a bit of a
friend, I gave her the medicine and sat down in the middle of the promenade
with her and her children and ate bread.
As the sun beat down we
talked as only people who don’t share the same language can, and she tried
teaching me a few words. We smiled and made wild gestures, and I alternated
between feeling completely comfortable and acutely conscious of tourists and
locals who walked by. By being on the ground you are always forced to be looking
up. Those above you don’t just seem big but they tower. It’s a vulnerable
position to be in and I only seemed to notice because of the contrast it gave
to the position I usually am standing in.
Just as we were getting
really at ease with each other I noticed four policemen and women come by and
make a circle around us, slowly narrowing it in. I didn't know if they were
trying to protect me, thinking I was being taken advantage of or harm me, so I slowly
got up gave a quick goodbye and walked away in an effort to avoid any conflict.
As I walked away I
thought about her, I thought about me, and I thought about how much we have in
common.
So these are my three
scenarios. I've thought about the Beijing incident a lot and why it made me
feel so angry. I think there’s this assumption when giving that the recipient
must be grateful. If instead they are snide or brusque it makes us less willing
to share. But then we take another look and ask: what are they to be happy
about? Should they feel giddy that they are in a position of begging or joyful
to be forced to rely on the goodwill of others? There are many reasons for why
people are in situations of destitute with some having it solely to do with bad
personal decisions while others are born in to a pecking order where they are
at the bottom.
Really what I've learned
the most is to not forget the human factor of need.
We could apply Blackstone’s
ratio and change it to "It is better that ten pretenders receive
than one genuinely in need goes without”. Common sense should be used in when
and how to give but so should clemency. As for me there are times
when I give and there are times when I don’t. I wish I could come to one
overarching consensus that would do away with the mental
conflict but it hasn't been formulated yet, I’m constantly finding myself
thrown into different situations that cause me to reflect and re-evaluate my
prior position. I think a better understanding will come with experience and
age. I will no doubt travel more and be more involved with what I’m just seeing
now on a superficial level. So even though it’s a painful process I can see the
good in it, I become compelled to take a moment and see the person as they are
and not as I imagine them to be. This way I’ll be able to know not only who I’m
giving to but why, and slowly I can put names to the numberless faces we
constantly see.
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