-everyone grows old. not everyone grows up.
How can anyone still blog after mandre's post? I shall try to do justice to that entry, impossible as it may be. Afterall, she is older and wiser =) Happy birthday Amanda.
When I give food to the poor, they call me a Saint. When I ask why the poor have no food, they call me a Communist.
I was reading some old journal articles last week, and something struck me. Everyday, we turn on the TV, turn on the radio, turn the corner, we see pictures of famous people. We hear stories of how so-and-so big shot did so-and-so. This-or-that celebrity had an affair with so-and-so. Scandals all over, gossip abuzz. Yet, no one reads the stories about the common folk. The insignificant folk. The unimportant. Unwanted. The plights of these otherwise ordinary people are no less news worthy then the NYP girl whose phone was stolen. Yet, the media deems their story unpalatable to the general audience. "Its too distressing!" the media mongrels will cry. "People don't want to read about other people's lives! People just want sex and violence!" they invariably shout. "People just won't care!"
That is why today I want to share just 2 of these countless stories. They may not be from home, but I am sure there are many Singaporeans who share their plight. They may not have the most interesting lives in the world, but they suffer all the same. They may not be anyone you might meet, ever, but they are someone.
They are human.
There is no wealth like knowledge, no poverty like ignorance.
In rural China, many small villages try to organise a school for the children. These are mostly cobbled up buildings and a few collapsing houses converted for use as a classroom, with something like 20 to 30 students. Of course, in the villages, there will be a proper school, but most people don’t have money to send their children there.
The problem with these schools is that teachers are hard to come by. The local villages hardly produce any teachers, where as professionally trained educators don’t want to travel that far to teach these children, especially since they are given no incentive in terms of pay. So what happens is that there will most likely only be 1 or 2 teachers in charge of everything in that small “school”. I think those of us who have watched the film《一个都不能少》(“Not one less”) should understand what I am talking about. So if this one teacher has to run an errand, his place will have to be filled by a substitute teacher.
These substitute teachers, especially in rural areas, often end up being the permanent teachers because of the severe lack of teaching staff. This is especially so in secondary schools, where several teachers are necessary. A substitute teacher will have to stand in for any absent teacher, and so they almost become a permanent member of the teaching staff.
Yet, these teachers were paid a meager RMB50 a month for their services.
Because of the RMB50, they are unable to move out of their poor conditions. Because of their RMB50, they are unable to go for training courses to become a full time teacher. They end up getting trapped in the poverty cycle.
Because of their RMB50, they are unable to send their children to school, even thought they have taught so many. Because of their RMB50, they are even more unable to send their children to receive higher education, even though they themselves have sent up to 20 batches of students off, in total producing up to 50 university graduates
Because of their RMB50, most of these teachers are unable to start a family at all. Women don’t want to marry them, because very rightly, they are concerned about these teacher’s ability to care for them, and care for their family.
Such is the irony of life. These are the same teachers who have seen entire generations of students, following whole batches for up to 8 years, producing countless talents that would otherwise have been wasted away on a farm. Yet they are the ones who are unable to fulfil their own potential, unable to feel the joy of seeing their own children grow up to be successful, unable to encourage their own children to study hard to make a better life for themselves.
All because of RMB50.
As to diseases, make a habit of two things; To help, or at least to do no harm.
Death and parting are inevitable tragedies, all the more so if it is of a loved one. We are all but human, imperfect. Our bodies will fail, and we will fall into sickness and disability. Fortune does not smile upon everyone, and every once in a while, someone slips her mind, and Sickness exploits this opportunity to extend her sickly reach, plaguing and destroying another life in the prime of youth. Thankfully, we have modern medicine and medical technologies, able to wrest almost anyone from the icy grip of death. It seems we may finally have the ability to rid the world of the injustice of illness and plague.
In 2005, a woman in her late 40s suffered a stroke. She suffered massive brain damage and her life was in immediate danger. She was rushed to the hospital and put in the Intensive Care Unit. Her condition was so critical that she had to be put into an induced stated of comma to save her life. As she eats, drinks and breathes through tubes, doctors try desperately to stop the massive bleeding in her brain. Sounds familiar? The same thing happened to Ariel Sharon, leader of Israel. Just like Ariel Sharon, an otherwise healthy woman suffered an ailment which is not extremely rare at her age. Just like Sharon, the wonders of medicine could offer her another lifeline. But so unlike Sharon, her story did not have a happy ending.
Her family was in fact from a poor area of rural China. When she was admitted into hospital, all 5 members of the extended family pooled together every single cent of their lives' savings to give her much needed medical care. But their money dripped away just like the saline solution their poor family member was attached too, and after no more then 3 days in intensive care, the RMB10, 000 they had managed to scrap together ran out. Hard pressed for cash, and unwilling or unable to acquire a loan for fear of extended payments, they made the heart wrenching decision to cut her life support. The doctors, standing next to her, watching her writhe in agony, flipped the switch, as if he was simply dealing with business. With no way to keep her in her hospital bed, and no one to care for her, her family members made an insane decision. Pushed to the edge of reason, defying the cry of every bone, every cell of their living bodies, they decided to send her to a crematorium, to be cremated alive, and forever put to rest.
So the father drove her in his van, her 2 daughters and 1 son sobbing uncontrollably, and her cousin utter irreconcilable in the back with the mother, to the crematorium. But their agony was not over yet. Fate had another cruel trick up her sleeve. The gate keeper of the crematorium refused to admit them, because they were unable to pay for the fees of a cremation. Imagine this scene. A group of 5 people, and 1 near corpse, at the gates of a crematorium, a bare few minute’s drive from the hustle and bustle of yet another modernised, uptown China city, begging for entrance to cremate a still living member of the family.
Finally, they manage to acquire the assistance of an uncle, who lent them the money necessary. And so there they were, a family complete, yet broken. They brought the mother’s still breathing body out, with every intention with carrying through with their plan. Their pitiful wails were like the cries of banshees, adding to the defilement of an already evil place. All the while, the mother lay incapacitated, unable to speak, unable to express her fear, unable to run away from this terrible end.
Thankfully, the monk who was sent to perform the last rites on the body found her still breathing. He brought this to the attention of the manager, who intervened on his behalf. The scene that followed was one of immense tragedy and drama. The family went on their knees, half in desperation, half in hope. They begged the manager to let them carry on. As tears streamed down their cheeks like the massive flood waters of the Nile, and with voices hoarse and broken from their sobbing, they begged and begged and begged. The father even tried to use force, threatening the manager with stones he picked up from the floor. They clung on to the manager for dear life. Begging for a chance. A chance to kill their own mother.
Deplorable as it may sound, try to stand in their shoes. In their view, death was the best choice they had to offer their mother. They couldn’t give her the care she needed. She would literally have to live through a living hell as her life was slowly drained from her. They could not stand to see the sight of their mother suffering any further, and so they chose what they thought was the most humane and easiest choice open to them, no matter how much it would hurt them to do so.
Children should never have to see their parents suffer. In the same token, parents should never have to bury their own children. Especially not if the only reason for doing so was monetary in nature. Surely the world has enough money to make sure no family has to go through the ordeal recounted above? What happened to the rich tycoons who spend the entire cost of hospitalisation on one meal? Or the politician, who promised to improve the condition of rural communities, yet draws a normal rural family’s life savings in salary every month? Where are they now, that they cannot even save one life? This one life may not be the most significant, but the tragedy is not in the life lost. It is in the life wasted away in suffering.
By the grace of god, the story does end on a somewhat less tragic note. The commotion attracted the attention of people in the area, who came to take a look. A very obliging public responded to this crisis and generously paid the medical costs. However, the mother was taken off life support for a total of 26 hours, during which time, irreparable damage was done to her body. Sadly, she passed away. Yet, I take heart from the fact that the Chinese are not nearly as selfish or as self centred as they are thought to be.
It is not the strongest of a species that survive, or the most intelligent, but the ones most responsive to change.
2 months have passed. 28+31 days. 672+744 hours. This is as good a time as any to think look back and try to reflect. I think it is fair to say that JC life is vastly different from anything we have had thus far. Beyond the responsibilities, beyond the choices we have to make, and beyond the future that we see for ourselves, the most important thing that has changed is the ability to make a difference. Not to imply that we have not had the ability to before, but JC is when we have the chance to not only sieze opportunities, but to also create them.
We, being RJ students, have a unique opportunity. We have a chance to reach out to the world and help people everywhere. That is why I appeal to you, to help, and to do good as you can. And most importantly, when you finally achieve something, as I am sure everyone in RJ will, never fail to remember the little people. At the risk of sounding cheesy, great power also bequeaths great responsibility. And I believe that charity should start at home. So tomorrow, and the day of tomorrow, and the day after that, and for everyday in your life, go out into the world and make someone’s day. Be nice to your friends. Be gracious and kind. Most importantly, be aware. Be aware of what is going on about you, and by that I mean understand what is happening at the grassroots. Know who needs help, whether it is a CIP, or if it is a friend having problems with his assignment, offer your help graciously and without desire for profit.
So go forth, and make a difference.
Peace out
wang
