If you gave everything, even the clothes off your back, your last drop of water, would you be alright? Is it possible to give at an irresponsible level if it means that you will not be taken care of? Is ultimate selflessness possible under our human condition? I think it’s a question of karma.
My observation about the states is that, generally, people do not give without expecting something in return. This doesn’t mean that there aren’t people out there that don’t volunteer all they’ve got for someone else’s benefit, but it’s not as common as here in Peru. In the Peruvian culture, especially in the campo, everyone is constantly sharing. Someone is always knocking on the door asking for water, an onion, garlic, an egg, lemon, etc. No one counts favors. They just grew up this way. Life is obviously more complicated here for people because of socioeconomic, access, health, and weather problems, but it’s beautiful how the culture of a poor people involves so much generosity. Maybe this is because people do not gain enough money to learn what greed is. The root of greed is from getting used to having too much.
Lately I’ve been experimenting how to give more than expected. I also feel I’m experimenting how to take away people’s pain or discomfort in a sense. That probably comes from how I come from another culture and am not used to seeing so much need…or maybe I’m overly sensitive to people’s needs. For example, the kid next to me in the internet cabina sees my water and looks thirsty, so I put it in front of him and say he can have it. He takes it, ever so timidly, then says, “Gracias, gringa.” In the colectivo to Tumbes city, a mother sweats profusely as she holds her sleeping baby. I offer to hold the baby and sweat instead, directly putting myself in her shoes to understand her a little bit more and how exactly to help. Some problems have harder solutions than others. When I buy bread, the neighborhood kids surround me and I end up giving away all the bread. Notice how I don’t even say, “my bread,” because I’m trying to think of these material objects as part of the world, not me. There goes my dinner, but my hunger dissipates anyways. There’s a woman walking back from the chacra (farm) with a sack of heavy platanos on her back so I run over to help her with the load and walk home with her. My host mom, who I do not exactly get along with, is tired from her long day so I wash the dishes after dinner, even though I wasn’t necessarily wanting to do it, because I’m tired too…and I think she’s mean, ha! Anyways, I noticed that the feeling of not wanting to do these things goes away the more I give. It’s addicting to give because I chase that feeling of making someone else happy or making their day a little bit easier for a moment. Intriguingly, I’m still receiving something in return though, because I’m receiving a feeling. I wonder what it’s like to not even get that feeling, have it be like second nature.
My observation about the states is that, generally, people do not give without expecting something in return. This doesn’t mean that there aren’t people out there that don’t volunteer all they’ve got for someone else’s benefit, but it’s not as common as here in Peru. In the Peruvian culture, especially in the campo, everyone is constantly sharing. Someone is always knocking on the door asking for water, an onion, garlic, an egg, lemon, etc. No one counts favors. They just grew up this way. Life is obviously more complicated here for people because of socioeconomic, access, health, and weather problems, but it’s beautiful how the culture of a poor people involves so much generosity. Maybe this is because people do not gain enough money to learn what greed is. The root of greed is from getting used to having too much.
Lately I’ve been experimenting how to give more than expected. I also feel I’m experimenting how to take away people’s pain or discomfort in a sense. That probably comes from how I come from another culture and am not used to seeing so much need…or maybe I’m overly sensitive to people’s needs. For example, the kid next to me in the internet cabina sees my water and looks thirsty, so I put it in front of him and say he can have it. He takes it, ever so timidly, then says, “Gracias, gringa.” In the colectivo to Tumbes city, a mother sweats profusely as she holds her sleeping baby. I offer to hold the baby and sweat instead, directly putting myself in her shoes to understand her a little bit more and how exactly to help. Some problems have harder solutions than others. When I buy bread, the neighborhood kids surround me and I end up giving away all the bread. Notice how I don’t even say, “my bread,” because I’m trying to think of these material objects as part of the world, not me. There goes my dinner, but my hunger dissipates anyways. There’s a woman walking back from the chacra (farm) with a sack of heavy platanos on her back so I run over to help her with the load and walk home with her. My host mom, who I do not exactly get along with, is tired from her long day so I wash the dishes after dinner, even though I wasn’t necessarily wanting to do it, because I’m tired too…and I think she’s mean, ha! Anyways, I noticed that the feeling of not wanting to do these things goes away the more I give. It’s addicting to give because I chase that feeling of making someone else happy or making their day a little bit easier for a moment. Intriguingly, I’m still receiving something in return though, because I’m receiving a feeling. I wonder what it’s like to not even get that feeling, have it be like second nature.
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| Lobitos, sunset watching, with a wonderful friend |
you have a huge heart, proud to meet you <3
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