Poco Trabajo, Mucho Dinero

There is one neighbor with whom I am friendly, and I see him regularly around the apartments. He is a small, kind man from Peru. He tolerates my dicey Spanish, and tries out English phrases and statements on me. We usually laugh a lot.

Today, something happened that surprised and troubled me. I was on the porch having a cup of coffee when this guy pulled up.

"Hola, mano." I called out.

"Hola," he replied

"Que Pasa?"

"Mucho Trabajo, Poco Dinero, Amigo."

"Ci," I said, with a sympathetic smile.

Then he walked right up to the porch, put down his grocery bags, and looked at me.

"You, poco trabajo, mucho dinero."

"No, amigo. I don't make much money."

"Yes," he said, and stormed off, unwilling to discuss it further.

Then I walked inside and looked around at our apartment. It's true that we've been able to eat, and have purchased some new furniture lately, but I was trying to figure out if there was anything obviously excessive about my lifestyle that would make him say that.

My friend who was with me at the time said, "that was an interesting race conversation."

So here are my thoughts about the whole thing, which was very troubling to me.

1) Race is an issue that affects me personally. Although I feel ill at ease around Georgians, have lived in the Philippines most of my life, and moved to the international village to interact with different cultures, I am easily categorized by my whiteness. I knew this I guess, but I'm reminded of it when someone assumes something about me, and especially when someone acts so unexpectedly angry.

2) The goodwill I hoped we had from working in the afterschool program and serving the community may not be as secure as I thought. I really need to be able to handle conversations like this more humbly. I need to take my language learning more seriously in order to communicate love for and interest in my neighbors.

3) He's right, in a way. My life has been full of opportunities to make money, which I have taken for granted. The bottom line is, I was born into privilege. I don't suffer from the kind of discrimination and cultural roadblocks that the people around me do. And this will be a barrier. How do I live with that?

4) I'm part of the solution, I hope. I need to avoid taking for granted that I am doing a service to the people around me. Would it be better for them if I left well enough alone? Not for the kids we work with. Probably not for their parents. But I need to evaluate where I'm helping and if and how I'm hurting.

There's much more. I somehow want to communicate with this guy, but I don't have the words. I'm in such a frustrated state of mind right now.

I'm thinking about how, right now, I stink like diesel and sweat because of my day job, which is an arrogant and off-topic notion.

Anyway, if anyone out there wants to help me think this through and counsel me on a response, comment away.