sacrifice
Berlin, Germany
The mayor, the chief of police and the head judge are all females in a particular town in Brazil. You’d have thought one of them might have objected to a twelve year old starving girl being imprisoned for 28 days in a cell with thirty men, because she stole some food. Especially considering they *knew* what would happen to her. But they didn’t, and it was only when the case was brought to international attention that the child was released. That, however, did not signal the end of her misery. With her parents, she had to be whisked away from her former life to a new protected, but completely unknown, life.
Uprooted. Unjustly. Scarred.
That was just the beginning of a conversation that made lunch quite indigestible.
The main speaker was Brazilian, hailing from the region where the above atrocity was performed. She educated us about the status of women – or, rather, the lack of it. She described dire poverty and starvation, she hinted at corruption, speaking through sadness mingled with anger, pain and desperation.
And she explained that she left four years ago to escape that culture. She neither liked nor approved of it, and was not willing to hang around and (in her own words) “be a martyr”.
Another in our midst failed to understand her decision. Coming from a very different position, he exclaimed, “I’d like to be a Gandhi.”
Having been born in New Zealand, we are fortunate, privileged, free, rich.
We can choose whether to ignore the plight of the millions – nearly a billion today are starving, not to mention the three billion, who struggle to live on US$2 a day. Others are persecuted for their beliefs. Still more are shunned by their communities. Bad things don’t just happen in Brazil.
We could ignore them all or we could strive to be a Gandhi.
We hear our kids saying things like, “When we get back I’m going to buy a tent, a pocketknife, some Lego.” They are children – we certainly do not want them to carry the weight of the world on their shoulders, but we do encourage them to remember what they have seen. To remember WHO they have seen. To consider how some of their resources might be the catalyst for change for someone. And as adults, we evaluate our own longings too. It would be all too easy to forget, to slip into a consuming lifestyle, to prefer our own wants above others’ needs, to live comfortably.
Tags: 2008/09, justice, postcard: Germany, tradition
rayres
ouch X
When I was 18 I was an exchange student in Brazil for a year. We did some work with street children who were sold into prostitution. Unfortunately at the time – I did not know God. I’ve often wondered what it would be like to go back now and see with new eyes.
ouch indeed. ‘being a gandhi’ is a much nicer idea when you aren’t actually doing it.. 😕