It’s 1pm, I’m driving home for lunch and the streets are filled with hungry drivers and permanently angry taxi men. Excessive beeping and honking fill the air, along with dark smoke emitted by the old public bus in front of me. As the traffic slowly advances, a woman tries to forcefully cut in front of me- I yell at her and join the madness.
Rush hours in Santo Domingo are not particularly pleasant, but are no doubt entertaining. Among others, waiting in traffic you will find men, women, and children selling: frozen bottled water, ice cream, popsicles, menthol and TV antennas, candy, baby parrots, stuffed animals, fruits in season, sunglasses, school supplies, cell phone accessories, vegetables, and nuts. There are also beggars and window cleaners, both of which have their own spectrum. Encountering these people in traffic has the power to trigger numerous emotions… or none at all.
During my first few weeks living here (and in all my previous shorter visits) I used to feel sorry for these ambulatory figures. How much money could that guy possibly make selling baseball stickers? Where are that kid’s parents? Is that window cleaner my age? Why are they there and I here? Without thinking twice, I gave my money to beggars and bought things that I didn’t need. But things change.
Experiencing this traffic everyday, seeing the same beggars, the same random sellers, and the same unnecessary and annoying window cleaners has somehow made me blind. I have become immune to these people and their needs… not necessarily a great thing for someone looking to seek a career in public health and/or social work.
Luckily, I caught myself doing it: looking away when the same guy (with no apparent disability) knocked on my window asking for change, screaming “NOOOO” when the window cleaner threw his dirty sponge at my windshield (from a block away) right after I come out of the carwash, choosing not to buy an avocado even though I knew I could eat it at lunch…
The truth is that I got sick of the “bullshit.” For a while (after my sorry period) I thought that many of these people could be looking for jobs instead of begging, going to school (at least part time) instead of hanging out in the streets and cleaning some windows here and there, that parents could be sending their children to school instead of to ask for money.
But I have reconsidered: Who the hell am I to judge them? I know nothing about the situation in which these people find themselves, let alone about the way they could/should spend their time. The only thing I know for sure is that I would hate to be in their place, and if they knew a way to get out of it, they probably would.
So in this season of giving, I would like to bring attention to the blindness to sameness that inadvertently takes us over. Lets pay careful attention to our routines and spot people that may be in need. I’m not suggesting we give money to every beggar in the street, but rather anything we can provide to anyone that crosses our paths (some beggars appreciate smiles too!). Whether it’s a dollar, a smile, a hug, or a simple look, it can make someone feel special, loved, cared for. The least we can do is notice; the rest comes naturally. Lets open our eyes.
