How Should One Respond to Poverty?

By Donna Coen
CRS Volunteer, Madagascar

Today on the way into Antananarivo, Madagascar's capital city, for mass, there were more kids begging from people on the bus than usual. I'm finding it more and more difficult to say "no" to uplifted hands and eyes, to turn away from it all.

The children make me wonder what it must be like to have people not even want to look at you. I felt guilty for sometimes not wanting to make eye contact because I was afraid someone would ask me for money—it wasn't the first time I felt that way either.

So on that particular morning, walking to church I made a conscious effort to look at people. Surprisingly, I found that most everyone just smiled at me and said "bon jour" or manaohona—even the kids sitting on the stairs in Analakely.

When I approached the church, there was a woman with her baby who started following me. I gave her some money, and also to a young boy following mass. I feel emotional about it all.

There are so many contradictory feelings within me; and Antananarivo only makes those more apparent. There are things which are so very nice, shops that look exactly as, if not even better than, some shops in the United States. There are niceties to be had—high quality chocolate shops, massages, and good food but then like this morning, passing by Anosy Lake, you see the homeless sleeping on the streets and in the grass.

One woman was sleeping out in the middle of the sidewalk, dozens of people walking right next to her at any given moment. I've never seen urban poverty on the level it exists in Antananarivo, and it is far more difficult than what I imagined it would be. I have a greatly increased desire to be in more direct contact with the people I pass by.

I want to be the person that looks directly at them and smiles, even if that is all I can do for them at the moment. I want them to know that I care. I want them to know I see them. Perhaps they do not care at all what I think or do. Perhaps I am motivated partially by a sense of guilt. Perhaps there are other selfish reasons behind it all as well. But I also feel in my heart that that is what I should be doing—what in fact, I want to be doing. And then when the gospels confirm it, I feel compelled to act upon what is in my heart.

So yes, about it becoming more difficult to see such poverty and being bothered by not doing enough about it—I think it is good. The idea of becoming complacent to such issues, or blind to it all, is far more disturbing.

But where is the balance? Do you give everything away? It certainly does not seem wise to put myself into a situation where I myself become dependant on others. But how much is enough?

These thoughts are often on my mind these days, and I don't imagine that I'll get it all figured out anytime soon. The important thing I suppose is that I am struggling with it. And then on the opposite spectrum, there are times when I acutely feel the need to have something 'normal,' something familiar that puts me in a different world, that puts me into the 'comfortable' world I am used to: an expensive meal, a brownie and a cup of brewed coffee, a hot shower with plenty of water pressure.

But as I sit with my cup of coffee, eating my brownie, there are the kids outside. There is the mother with her baby, and all of the others living on the streets, just outside the window. I certainly feel that if I am spending my money on that brownie, I should at least spend the same on helping others.