5K in the Kitchen

So, I thought I should let y'all know I'm paring back the internship. One day a week. What with school and work and thesis and all, I figured it would help me stay sane. If you read my last post, you know my computer died, which was a bit of a setback since all my practicum notes and documents were in there, and I hadn't backed them up. I had meant to look up the Cloud thing or whatnot, but as you may have guessed, I'm not super into technology and have now learned my lesson. Proud to say I just installed Dropbox on my new Mac, and it's up and running. Also very happy to report that BECAUSE of my tech incompetence, almost everything I really need was in emails, i.e. I couldn't figure out how to submit assignments online, didn't have a printer or a scanner, or needed help fixing something in the document. So, HA! Planning, pshh.

A few weeks ago I was tasked with taking an elderly Iraqi refugee to Social Security and DSHS. Her son and his family arrived a couple years ago; they're well-settled, and the father has a good job, so grandma was moving in with them. Since her grandchildren speak English, one of her granddaughters came along to translate. Unfortunately, grandma has really bad back problems and needed serious assistance walking anywhere. As soon as we get in the car, she starts complaining about health problems. Now, I love old people, but sometimes they wax on and on about the meds they take and what doctors they see and how many surgeries this toe had and blahblahblah, and it makes it difficult to enjoy the conversation. It's not a cultural thing; I'm pretty sure old people everywhere do this. So I employ my old-people-distraction-tactic, asking about "the good old days," which almost always works, and ALWAYS pays off. Old people have great stories, and this lady topped most of them. Her husband was in the Iraqi military for like 50 years and was an ambassador to France for a few years. So not only is she fluent in French, she's traveled the world, met awesome people, seen first hand the biggest political and global changes in the last near-century, and experienced both ends of the wealth and public favor spectrum. Her English isn't half-bad, either, and she's got a great sense of humor to boot. Her granddaughter is a sweet middle schooler, quiet and kind of shy, so grandma and I carry on our own muddled conversation mostly in English, partly in minimal French, with a smattering of my fragmented Arabic, cracking jokes the whole way through. She asks if I've had Iraqi food, and I explain I lived in Kuwait for two years, assuming Kuwaiti food is pretty similar. She belly laughs and assures me I haven't lived til I eat Iraqi food, "BEST in the world." I will gain 5 kilos as soon as I start eating it, she says, because I won't be able to stop. Come to my kitchen! I will make you fat like me! So I promise I'll come by sometime and try her cooking.

After a long day sitting in offices, we make it home, and I tell her she should take a nap. Instead, she makes me sit on the couch and watch t.v., and brings me a full plate of baklava straight from Iraq. I eat a couple of pieces, dripping with honey, and rave about how good it is. I don't have to fake that, because it really is absolutely delicious. She tells me to eat another piece, and I don't want to be a pig, but ok, fine, twist my arm. We sit and talk, and she shows me old pictures of her husband in his uniform, pictures of him shaking hands with generals and politicians. Her son looks just like him. I ask if she has any pictures of herself from then, and she says no, they're in Iraq. Even years after his death, she is excited to talk about him, proud of his accomplishments and character. She may not seem sad, but she certainly still loves him, and I feel glad she can be with family again, investing in her husband's legacy through caring for her grandchildren. The littlest granddaughter, out of the four, all girls, plays on the floor. Grandma asks, "Are you a GOOD girl? You are a BAD girl, very bad." She smiles mischievously and says, "Nononono, GOOD!" They both laugh, and the grandma makes me eat another piece of baklava. Ok, last one, I say. One more, one more, she insists, literally holding another piece in front of my face. She wasn't kidding about fattening me up, so I take a bite and put it back on the plate. Eventually, I head out after giving her son my phone number so she can call me and we can set up a time to eat a real meal together.

He calls a couple weeks later, explaining that somehow they got the wrong number, or they would have called earlier to invite me over. We make plans for lunch on a Thursday, when the family's old case worker can come, as well as the grandma's new case worker. I'm really excited, and when the day comes, I make sure I'm good and hungry before heading over. The grandma and mother have been cooking all morning, the father is home from work, and there is a huge feast waiting for the six of us. I should have written the names of the dishes down, because I've forgotten them now, but there was roasted chicken biryani with potatoes, rice with thyme and beans, regular rice, goat and tomato soup, spiced meat patties, chopped salad with cucumbers and tomatoes, mango juice, and more I can't even remember now. Needless to say, it was all amazing, and I ate way past the fill line of my stomach. My favorite dish was the rice with thyme and what I think were lima beans, which went with the goat soup. Ah, I'm getting hungry now just thinking about it. I could definitely gain a solid 5 kilos in a week eating like that every day. One of the many perks working with refugees! Next on the menu, Afghani food :)

Children and Poverty

*This post is for a new class. Not about the internship. Must post on here for unknown reasons. Regularly scheduled programming will resume shortly.*

Caveat: My laptop's hard drive is broken, within which all of my notes are stored, and my computer has been shipped to the Apple Macdaddy big boss store for further probing. Will be at least 5-15 days before Compy comes home, so this post is being written on a library computer with a screen that has been zoomed in so far I have to continuously scroll from left to right to see the whole line of script, and I am technologically incompetent, so that's super fun. May not be the best writing I've ever done.

Prompt, for those who are reading this anyway: "Draw on your web based research and the readings for this session to blog on how children experience poverty in ways that are unique to children, and in ways which are similar to adults."

How do we define childhood? Most Americans would include as part of their description the time before we have real responsibilities. However, as Kathryn Copsey notes, "Thinking of childhood as a time for play is a Western notion" (Miles and Wright, 2003, p.3). Besford and Stephenson echo this in saying that "Childhood has become a Holy Grail - a time not to be touched and tampered with" (Miles and Wright, 2003, p.147). They point out that Christian ministries working with children use promotional materials that "depict 'normal' children as those laughing and being schooled" (p.148). However, childhood is relative to context; culture, time period, environment, and social status (among a myriad of other factors) play a role. Many societies view youth as simply part of the continuum of one's part in contributing to the family and society. As soon as they are able, children become part of the work force, either on the family farm or in an outside venue that contributes to family income. With this in mind, it is hard to generalize on the experience of children globally, though there are similarities especially in reference to experiencing poverty. Examining these commonalities with shared adult experience of poverty gives a much broader understanding of how poverty affects society.

Children are born into a situation where they rely on an adult caregiver. In this state, they are completely vulnerable. During developmental years, almost everything has a lasting effect on children, from emotional support to brand of milk. Adults are better able to find their own food and shelter, earn wages, and problem solve based on past experience. Often, children in poverty at completely at the mercy of adults and have no way to provide for themselves; they have no control over distribution of family income or the way they are treated by adults. However, at some point children become “social actors — individuals with rights and responsibilities of their own; playing an active role in the lives of their families, communities and societies; and having interests, views and priorities which may differ from those of the adults with whom they interact" (Children's Christian Fund, 2003, p.1). In response to poverty, when an adult caregiver cannot provide protection and sustenance, children can become more self-empowered. For example, street children learn to take care of themselves and develop communities on their own. They have many of the same strengths as adults, some to a greater degree, like resilience; scholars even argue that this adversity provides a deep source of character strength (CCF, 2003, p.3). Among other things, children display higher levels of openness, imagination, and resourcefulness, and their lives are much less complicated than those of adults (Miles and Wright, 2003, p.17). They view the world in a more simplistic way, and value things differently than adults. Children care more about being secure in their relationships, while adults care more about succeeding in life. Thus, in some ways, children are better equipped to deal with poverty than adults, while in others, they experience it more negatively.

In both cases, poverty can be very damaging to children and adults alike. Insecurity of physical safety, stable family dynamics, future lifestyle, and treatment from others are shared concerns of those in poverty (CCF, 2003, p.7). This is obviously skimming the top of the iceberg; in order to better understand how to solve poverty, we need to take a better look at those it affects, including listening to their perspective (i.e. children). This actually ties in well with my thesis focus of empowering the marginalized, giving them a voice and inviting them to become part of the solution. Only when we involve those we are trying to help can we make a lasting impact, and children are one of the most marginalized groups of people on earth. It is encouraging that organizations like the UN (and their Convention on the Rights of the Child), UNICEF, Amnesty International, Save the Children Alliance, and Young Lives are working toward ending poverty in impactful and lasting ways. I look forward to seeing them lead a growing movement in making the world a safe place for children.