There are so many ways to define disparity here, but one of the most recent ones was experienced today. I've been curious about the local gym and decided to check it out and maybe get a membership; so Benno and I walked into town early this morning. Well...everything I had heard was evidently--very evidently true. Just walking past the huge tennis and basketball courts outside, with great seating all around, AND the huge 25 m. outdoor pool my head was shaking with the opulence of it all, juxtaposed against the poverty here. This complex covers about half a city block, and once we walked around and found the main entrance and walked down the lovely terraced boulevard down to the entry doors I was feeling like this must be another universe. Inside, I discovered the best-equipped gym I've ever seen. It is HUGE and has every possible piece of equipment any training athlete could hope for, PLUS another 25 m indoor pool, PLUS a full-sized gym and a clubhouse...WOW! Obviously there are some people here--I guess the ones who drive the Mercedes--who can afford the luxuries. Also, the gym was the generous gift by the Central Bank (like the Bank of Canada) to its employees, and anyone else who chooses to purchase a membership. What a fabulous community facility. In Canada, we'd expect it. In Canada, this would be like some of the world-class facilities created for the Olympics in Calgary.
But here? Here, where the local hospital is a nightmare? Here, where just yesterday our young friend, Thabiso, dropped in for a visit to tell us that his sister has been very sick and to thank us for the bed. I am reminded that their little 'house' is likely smaller than one of the washrooms at the big gym facility. The needs of Thabiso and his sisters are so very very HUGE yet meeting them, financially would be just a drop in one of the swimming pools of the snazzy gym.
I'd love to be able to just hand Thabiso all the solutions; I do hand him a bit--enough to buy a bit of food and maybe a Christmas gift for his sisters and grandmother--and my small gift feels like a mere drop in the deep pool of his need.
And now, Benno sits at our dining table visiting with a friend who has just lost his job--no notice--because the construction job he was doing is now finished. This friend also has just acquired the extra responsibility of some family members who are now living with him...and his challenges go on...And he goes on with such dignity in the face of so much potential for despair.
Here, disparity is defined in many ways. Here, questions are weighed on a larger, more imbalanced scale. The disparity creates a dissonance in me that I find hard to endure. But even here, I wonder...will I get a membership at the gym? Will it matter if I do? Will it make any difference if I don't? Who will care? What does living in the midst of this disparity do for the local wealthy who use the gym and drive around in their expensive cars? Who knows? What really does it do for any of us? We see it all the time, don't we? Do we just all eventually become inured?
~Wendy~
But here? Here, where the local hospital is a nightmare? Here, where just yesterday our young friend, Thabiso, dropped in for a visit to tell us that his sister has been very sick and to thank us for the bed. I am reminded that their little 'house' is likely smaller than one of the washrooms at the big gym facility. The needs of Thabiso and his sisters are so very very HUGE yet meeting them, financially would be just a drop in one of the swimming pools of the snazzy gym.
I'd love to be able to just hand Thabiso all the solutions; I do hand him a bit--enough to buy a bit of food and maybe a Christmas gift for his sisters and grandmother--and my small gift feels like a mere drop in the deep pool of his need.
And now, Benno sits at our dining table visiting with a friend who has just lost his job--no notice--because the construction job he was doing is now finished. This friend also has just acquired the extra responsibility of some family members who are now living with him...and his challenges go on...And he goes on with such dignity in the face of so much potential for despair.
Here, disparity is defined in many ways. Here, questions are weighed on a larger, more imbalanced scale. The disparity creates a dissonance in me that I find hard to endure. But even here, I wonder...will I get a membership at the gym? Will it matter if I do? Will it make any difference if I don't? Who will care? What does living in the midst of this disparity do for the local wealthy who use the gym and drive around in their expensive cars? Who knows? What really does it do for any of us? We see it all the time, don't we? Do we just all eventually become inured?
~Wendy~
1 comment:
Thank you for your comment on my blog last week Wendy. I had already read your post, and share in the tension of disparity. While it is easy (too easy) to ignore in Canada, I do remember similar struggles while in the Philippines. We would walk by crowds of street children and then go to the mall and watch a movie. It used to enrage me to see the stark difference between rich and poor, and I never had any answers, nor ever really knew what to do. Still don't.... Although, I do know that it is a healthy tension to be in.
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