One of the less appealing things about being an expat in a poor foreign country is the constant reminder of the inequalities in the world. Since looking out for an infant I have become more acutely aware of the disparities that exist between the us and the them. Compare a single, clean, vaccinated, insured, white baby in a sea of multiple, health and education-deprived local kids content to play with whatever is discarded as un-useful from their local malai family.
As we watched the DHL truck haul up six perfectly packed boxes of 'necessities' for our precious bundle this past week, I could not help the intense feeling of guilt in my own prosperity over the reality of those in who's neighborhood I am a guest. Unpacking seemingly essential items including a specially designed chair to ensure comfort, ventilation and safety in this warm climate; followed by a specialty backpack to save my precious back from having to return to the chiropractor once more; to the UV hats and sunglasses to prevent the harshness of the equatorial sun; augmented by an array of mosquito nets and repellents to protect our bub against the devastation of mosquito-born disease that is par for the course here.
It is all sometimes too much. How is it that human beings can live along a divide that means a single item deemed necessary to raise my child in comfort (not opulence) could equal the equivalent of a monthly income of my cleaning lady?
This is not meant to be a righteous post, but as we continue to strike a balance (or try to) between good and bad, necessary and waste, and in basically just doing the right thing in raising Luka, one cannot help but stop and ponder the realities of geobirthing-economics.
God bless every child tonight. Rich, poor, every one.
As we watched the DHL truck haul up six perfectly packed boxes of 'necessities' for our precious bundle this past week, I could not help the intense feeling of guilt in my own prosperity over the reality of those in who's neighborhood I am a guest. Unpacking seemingly essential items including a specially designed chair to ensure comfort, ventilation and safety in this warm climate; followed by a specialty backpack to save my precious back from having to return to the chiropractor once more; to the UV hats and sunglasses to prevent the harshness of the equatorial sun; augmented by an array of mosquito nets and repellents to protect our bub against the devastation of mosquito-born disease that is par for the course here.
It is all sometimes too much. How is it that human beings can live along a divide that means a single item deemed necessary to raise my child in comfort (not opulence) could equal the equivalent of a monthly income of my cleaning lady?
This is not meant to be a righteous post, but as we continue to strike a balance (or try to) between good and bad, necessary and waste, and in basically just doing the right thing in raising Luka, one cannot help but stop and ponder the realities of geobirthing-economics.
God bless every child tonight. Rich, poor, every one.
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