Dignity

I'm riding matola from an engineering conference by the beach (I know, tough life). We're whizzing by villages, passing mud huts with grass roofs, clothes lines up, with children running around. Adults are sitting in the shade that their roofs provide and are chatting happily. I see an old woman walking around bare foot through the dust and dirt, carrying tomatoes. I think about this old woman. You know, a lot of us might look at her and pity her. But, she carries a lot of dignity. She looks happy. She just wants to make sure her kids and grandkids are okay, like any grandma. The only difference between her and me, aside from our gender and age, is that my life might have a bit more of a safety net to it. Welfare, health care etc. Or so I hope, sometimes I think we all walk a fine line, just at the edge of the precipice, but that's a story for another day.

This woman, she has never used a computer, never driven a car. She's woken with the sun, and gone to bed with the moon. She doesn't think about cell phones, or what the latest fashion is in Italy. She hasn't attended a football match, yet she is dignified. There are so many different ways of living. A lot of times, my life in Canada has been racing after things that I thought I needed, that I thought I wanted, that I thought were necessary to fulfill my part in the social contract. But, really there is no more value in my life than there is in hers. Mine might be more varied, and I might have more opportunity to try new and different things, but at the end of it, her friends and family will mourn her at her funeral just as mine will me. She is important to someone, and has contributed to the life of someone. I hope I can do the same.

As an overseas volunteer, I am not here to bring dignity to her. She already carries much more than I can ever give. She has much more than I do. All I want to see is that her vulnerability is reduced. That when she gets sick, there is a hospital. That when her kids or grandkids need to learn, there is a school. That the scourge of HIV/AIDS transitions from reality to memory. I'm not kidding myself. I can't do any of these things, but I want to see them done. We can all work together to see these happen. We can reduce vulnerability. She already possesses dignity. She recognizes it in herself. Perhaps, we will all work to eliminate these vulnerabilities when we recognize it in her as well.