elena's adventures

Today I was talking to Naveed about poverty and homelessness. Naveed is currently in Bangalore, India, visiting his family. In India, it's not uncommon for shacks and grand homes to co-exist on the same street. The difference in class and wealth is extraordinary. In Mexico, I get the same feeling. Tourists and wealthy folk come and go past poor, indigenous families living and begging on the streets. The scene is overwhelming. I worry over what to do...how to help. I give coins to each I see, yet that solves only that day's problems, that day's need for food. What about the next? and the next after that? When will there be a solution? How is it that we can be so greedy to strive for that raise, the next IPOD, stylish clothes...while others simply wonder when they will eat next. Because we don't want to be them. Because it could be us. You never know. In Oaxaca, I bought lots of things I didn't need. And some things I didn't even like. But I wanted to help. I wanted to add to their income. I walked past a homeless family and immediately dug into my wallet. From across the street, the old woman saw me and came running, meeting me in the middle of the street. She sobbed, holding my hand in both of hers, "lo siento. lo siento." I'm sorry. I'm sorry I have to live this way. I'm sorry I have to ask for this from you. The tears spilled from my eyes. I wanted her soft, wrinkled hands to let go of mine...I didn't want or couldn't bear the truth she was giving me. I didn't want to know how hard it was. And how while each time she received these coins, she gained food, but lost pride. That moment has haunted me for days. My tears reflect hers.