Thanks for the capacity to be giving

Jewish law requires that people give one tenth of their income to the poor.  That religious obligation is called Tzedakah.  So, if you earn 10 billion dollars a year, 1 billion of that goes to those less fortunate than you.  If you earn 10 dollars a year, 1 dollar of that goes to the needy.  Yes, I suppose that people will try to argue that they are needy in different ways (which is true) and, therefore, their self-proclaimed "neediness" qualifies them to receive Tzedakah without having to give it (which is not true).  Or maybe that, if you are earning 10 dollars a year, you can't afford to give 1 dollar away, but where's the compassion?  There will always be someone in the world who earns 0 dollars a year.

me, leaving big, tall building for the last time!

"The only certain things in this world are death and taxes," said Benjamin Franklin.  One of the reasons I opted against pursuing a career in a big, tall building (see right) with a big, green paycheck is that satisfaction in life comes with no pricetag.  If you die only with enough Benjamin Franklins to wallpaper the inside of your coffin, what have you really accomplished in life?  But if you die having paid it forward and having instilled rock-solid values and ethics into others by example, while having a wealth of priceless experiences along the way, one would think that that satisfaction would provide a whole lot more of a comfortable resting place than a handful of paper with Benjamin Franklin's picture on it.  Even still, if you are unable to set aside even one iota of greed to give to others, nota bene: there's something in it for you; charitable contributions can earn you a tax deduction, kind of like a compromise.  You give your money to charity; you don't pay taxes...isn't that a good exchange?  The government gives *you* Tzedakah.  But again, what makes you worthy of being given unto when you don't embody the giving spirit yourself?

I write this post not to be preachy, not to ask for Tzedakah for myself (though by Jewish law, it is frowned upon to refuse it), and not to convert anyone...I understand that many people (Jews and non-Jews alike) don't necessarily feel any obligation (whether religious, personal, or otherwise) to give unto others.  But how can you criticize the world and point fingers at people who or institutions that don't meet/exceed your expectations when you are not doing something to actively change it?

Luz Meri, me, and Elsi (El Salvador, June 2009)

In the spirit of Thanksgiving, I feel it my personal obligation to acknowledge that which *I* feel thankful for and invite you to do the same (much like I did last year).  While I am in agreement with many about things to be thankful for (friends, family, significant other, my little ones in El Salvador, job, etc.), I also feel compelled to express my thanks for the chance to be giving, my thanks for the knowledge I have gained in my 27 years... that it is not solely particular items one should be thankful for, but also the capacity to appreciate them.

(Sidenote: I am pleased to report that my girls in El Salvador have passed another year of school.  Elsi (15 years old) has just passed eighth grade and will start ninth in January.  Luz Meri (9 years old, 10 in January) just finished third grade and will start fourth grade in January.)

So as you sit down at your Thanksgiving feast tonight, and as you update your Facebook status messages to reflect "all" that you are thankful for, I just want you to think about this: would you still be A-O-K if that turkey on your table were one tenth smaller?

Happy Birthday, with or without the tamales

People have asked me what I'm going to "do" for my birthday, if I'm going to plan a party or have some wild and crazy event in my honor.  The simple answer to that is "no."  Frankly, I'm just not interested this year.

When I was in El Salvador last year at this time (where my community, living on very few financial resources, threw me a surprise party (which -- don't tell -- I knew about from the day before)), I had a conversation with a 14-year-old girl named Elsi on her birthday (July 3), two days after mine.  There had been all this commotion in the community about my birthday (July 1), a date when people had given me a party, cards, cake, and love, and when I asked Elsi [pictured, left and right, with the dough to make tortillas] what she normally did for her birthday, her response was, "Maybe I'll get a card and maybe we'll eat tamales."  Tamales are a pretty common food to eat down there but, according to Salvadoran standards, they're not an everyday snack -- they're just too darn expensive (less than $2, I think).

Experiences like this are very grounding because it serves as a slap-in-the-face wake-up call that birthdays are merely the days when your age number changes.  You don't turn a year older -- it's just the day after the one before it.  Why do people even give presents on that day?  Congratulations -- I didn't think you'd make it 'til today and you have, so well done!  Bravo!  Maybe it's the opportunity to celebrate someone's life, in which case the birthday boy or girl becomes the person of honor for the day.  In this day and age, many people who are monetarily gifted might spend upwards of $100,000 on a party, thus bestowing upon themselves the authority to act as king or queen for the day.  In a place with few financial resources, however, it might not even mean a tamale.

What does this say about the people who only know how to celebrate by "doing something"?  Asking if someone is "doing something" for his/her birthday would suggest doing something out of the ordinary that would, consequently, count as "something."  My take on it is that one should "do something" every day so that, come birthday time, what one actually does is "nothing."

People often say, "it's the thought that counts."  I disagree.  It's the action.  I'm not saying that someone has to shell out lots of money -- or even any money -- to show their appreciation of somebody or to celebrate something.  But it's people's individual ways -- with respect to their everyday practices -- that reveal their true intentions.  Personally, I think people should adopt a well-intentioned mentality every day of the year.  Then, on the anniversary of their birth, they can merely sit back and reflect contentedly that they have lived every day of the previous year to the fullest.  They can be proud that every day has meant something because they have done something every day, raising the default bar so that something has become the new nothing.  I guess, then, when people ask what I'm doing for my birthday, it's with the something-nothing in mind.  So, to that, I say that this year, I'm just going to keep doing what I've been doing so that by the time my last birthday has rolled around, my collective days of doing nothing will have inspired others to turn "somethings" into "nothings" and will have left a lasting mark.**

**(Coincidentally enough, had I been born a boy, my name would have been Mark.)

A Fatal Shot of Reality

Of all the travels I have done, my trips to El Salvador have had the most profound impact on my life.  While I did not spend months and months there, the experiences I had there and continue to have because of the people I know there still resonate with me, even from nearly 8,000 miles away.

A couple of weeks ago, I received notice of a fatal accident that happened, but before I can get to that, I need to give some background.

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Last January, one of the people I met when I was in the community was Billy.  He must have been 21 or so and, in fact, he didn't even live in our community but, rather, in a nearby one.  During the course of that trip, he did seem a little strange but, because sometimes people are just strange, we didn't think much of it.  So, during those three weeks, he was just someone of whom to be mindful, but not to fear.

In June, our interactions with him were a little bit different.  When working on one of the physical labor projects, he was talking with one of our group members and mentioned that he only had one pair of shoes, the shoes he was wearing.  The delegate from our group asked how much shoes cost and he said about $20.  She then pulled out $20 and gave it to him so that he could go buy a new pair of shoes.  Upon hearing this story later and asking community members if what he said was, indeed, true (it wasn't), we were told a few more details about this guy.  I learned that he would come around more often when the gringos were there and that he had a history of un-kosher activity (stealing (not just from the gringos), making people feel uncomfortable, etc.).  So, we started to keep an eye out and take active precautions to make sure nothing would happen.

A few days after we heightened our skepticism, one of the members of the community ran to where our group was eating lunch to tell us that Billy had just had a seizure and had hit his head.  He had been sitting outside of the community library (about 20 yards away from where we were) and had fallen off the ledge, hitting his head on the cobblestone ground.  We all ran to see what was going on, and since I was one of only a few people with a cell phone, I called the doctor we had on call and explained the situation.  He gave us instructions on how to handle everything and within several minutes, Billy was in a car on his way to the hospital.  Considering the previous days' events of having him lurking around, it was actually a relief to know that he was in the hospital as opposed to hanging around the community.  So you can imagine the unsettled feeling I had when he returned around dinnertime, only several hours later and with bandages (no stitches) on his head.  (We had found out that what had led to his seizure was that he had stopped taking his medicine, which was both for his mood and to prevent seizures..I suppose that'll do it.)

After our evening activity, as we were all leaving to go home, he pulled me aside to apologize and to tell me that he really didn't mean any harm and that, after what happened earlier in the day, he knows that we're good people.  He said that we took care of him in a crisis and he respects that and won't forget it.  Following that conversation, our group decided to be accepting without being inviting (a subtle -- yet important -- difference).  We would say hello and ask how things were going but would not extend any offers to partake in what we were doing.  I'd say that we all ended up on okay terms with him and left the community practically unscathed, save that initial incident of his having conned one of ours.

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Now fast forward to a couple of weeks ago.  Billy had been working in a nearby nightclub, I think it was, when someone came to seek vengeance upon another.  Billy, however, got caught in the crossfire and was shot, succumbing to the injuries shortly thereafter.  The guy for whom the shots were intended was fine.  The whole thing was deemed accidental and the shooter went to jail....for four days, at which point, he paid the authorities some money and was set free.

When I first heard the news, I felt sorry for Billy.  It wasn't fair, no one should die that way -- let alone accidentally -- and though he wasn't the poster child for a good Samaritan, he didn't deserve what happened.  But then I think about the way he acted and the air of sketchiness that surrounded him wherever he went, and in a way, it's kind of like when he was at the hospital and I actually felt relieved to know where he was, even if only because it *wasn't* in the community.  When I try to apply the same logic here, though, I feel kind of guilty, because I would never wish anyone dead.  And while I am truly sorry that that was his fate, in a way there is a sense of security (both physically and mentally) that (at least, in my opinion) has been restored to the community.  Should I feel guilty?  Is it wrong to feel at least a little relief?  What do you think?

From what I could tell, the community didn't seem too fazed by what happened.  My guess is that the reason why not is that it's not entirely uncommon.  El Salvador is ridden with gangs and corruption.  Their largest source of income comes from remittances -- that is, money that friends and family send back from the U.S.  There is no reliable system in place akin to checks and balances that actually endorses prudent business practices and, well, ethics.  And though it is sad to report on Billy's tragic passing, perhaps it is even more disheartening to know that that was just another day in a country not so very far away.

Giving thanks for the gift and re-gift of thinking

In the spirit of Thanksgiving, it is time to give thanks for something in a less traditional manner than other people might.  I realize the holiday is about appreciating what you have and showing gratitude, but I don't believe I've ever heard of it being associated with taking action to pay that gratitude forward.

I know someone who used to work with USAID maybe 30-40 years ago and spent a chunk of time in Ethiopia.  When he was there, he saw such a dire need for help that he told the people there that he wanted to stay.  They told him no, that they didn't want him to stay.  "Why not?"  Well, because they said he would be able to do more to help their cause from the U.S. than he could by staying there with them.

Now, it's my turn to do my part.  There are organizations that ask for money and infomercials that shamelessly plug their causes, but the most important element that goes largely unpublicized is that of awareness.  Someone can very easily write a check and never really know what it's going toward or whom it will help.  Awareness of the surrounding issues, however, ends up becoming a currency of its own, one that is much more powerful and far-reaching than the value of a dollar (or its equivalent).  You might be thinking, "Well, awareness doesn't exactly put food on the table, now does it?" And, technically, I guess no, it doesn't directly do that.  However, consider a poor village where food is not plentiful.  An informercial advertises, "Send $20 to our organization and you can feed a family."  Truth be told, the money would, indeed, help.  But after those $20 are spent, then what?  What's the family to do?  What awareness would do, on the other hand, would be to teach the family how to survive past those $20.  You know, in a "You give a man a fish, you feed him for a day; you teach a man to fish, you feed him for a lifetime" kind of way.

I can assert with confidence that the people in these communities do not have fewer resources for lack of trying.  In fact, they work harder on a day-to-day basis than many people do in high-paying jobs in the U.S.  The difference isn't even necessarily a "poor" vs. "rich" mentality.  While some people may have fewer material resources, that does not automatically translate to poverty.  Especially in what many people might consider to be "poor communities," there exists a certain richness that comes out of such simplicity, of not having all of the material wealth that often clouds people's ideas of what is important in life.

What these people do lack, though, is awareness.  Living in an isolated community does not suggest a lower quality of life but it does make it more difficult to have access to information, services, and more.  For example, in a village in El Salvador, it is unusual for people to continue past 9th grade, if they make it even that far.  (One reason is that it becomes expensive, having to take the bus to school, which would cost $0.50 round trip.)  Kids also have to go to work to help support the family.  In my host family there, the father works at a milpa and has done so all his life.  He has never attended school and, thus, is unable to read or write.  He has four children and one of them dropped out of school a few years ago because it just wasn't for him.  That child, who must be 11 or so, now spends his time going to work with his dad, a machete being his tool of choice (not uncommon).  When I found out that he wasn't in school and wasn't planning to go back, my instinct told me to try to convince him otherwise.  Something stopped me, though, and upon further reflection, I decided that I couldn't justifiably persuade him to do it.  His attendance at school wouldn't earn the family any money, he wouldn't push himself in academics, and really, he wouldn't be working toward a tangible goal.  Even if he did finish school, what job prospects would there be?  The answer is few, if any.  And so, working at the milpa becomes the obvious default, and attending school would actually be a time waster in this case.  After all, when it comes to providing for the family, knowing about the process of metamorphosis or how to do geometry doesn't really rake in a day's wages (which would, at best, total around $5 for a full-day's work).


In this community, a trash service comes once a year.  The nearest post office is in a town 20 minutes away.  The local river (used for swimming and for laundering clothes) is connected to the septic system.  Despite these inevitable frustrations, though, the community is making progress.  Nearly one year ago, a bunch of us (in a study-abroad program) brought the community three computers and Internet, replete with online encyclopedias and learning games.  Besides the actual information contained in those programs, what we gave them was the gift of access.  Access to education, access to knowledge, and access to the rest of the world, whose exchanges and experiences would open the doors to a whole new realm of thinking.  Most importantly, this technology would give them the power to make decisions based on what they want and need (higher-level thinking), as opposed to not even knowing there were alternatives to their age-old processes.  In other words, we gave them the power to think for themselves and to be able to broaden their own horizons (and that of others), an asset that is truly priceless (more so than those Mastercard commercials).

I Skyped with the community today and, in doing so, I learned that the kids are on vacation now, as their school year runs from January-November.  That means that the kids have found out if they were promoted to the next grade or if they were held back.  It makes me happy to know that the two girls whose education I sponsor were both promoted.  Looks like next year, I'm gonna have an 8th grader and a 3rd grader on my hands!  But just knowing that every day they are expanding their minds and accumulating experiences in all aspects of life (both inside and outside the classroom) is rewarding...and honestly, the gift of thinking goes much farther than that $20 check.

Happy Thanksgiving to all -- may you all realize how lucky you are to have whatever you have and to be able to know how to appreciate it.  Here's to hoping that you take your gift of thinking and re-gift it.