Getting lucky

Being in Cairo has made me reflect deeply on the privileges that are bestowed on North Americans like myself.

Poverty and homelessness – all too familiar terms in the development literature – are evident all around me, whether it is the raggedy boy who extends his hands to commuters on the Metro train or the old widow with her downcast head sitting by the side of the road. Millions of Egyptians go hungry every night, and I’ve only touched the tip of the iceberg.

The severity of the problem struck home for me yesterday night. I was sitting in an air-conditioned mall, enjoying my falafel in the Food Court. Suddenly, a boy – he did not look more than 5 or 6 years old – came up to our table and asked for food. I was dumbstruck. I stared at him, trying to search for words to describe the feelings welling up inside me – shock, horror, hurt, compassion, confusion. How could a 5-year old go on begging for food in a Food Court? It’s totally unheard of in North America. What is even more astonishing is that the mall security guards quickly caught on to what the boy was doing – along with some other homeless children – and shooed them away.

To give you a better perspective of how much food costs here: my falafel was 1.50 Egyptian Pounds, which is equivalent to around 25 cents in US Dollars. A mere 25 cents can provide a meal for someone.

What is 25 cents to a North American? There were quite a few times when I dropped quarters on the ground, and because I thought it was too much of a hassle to pick them up, I simply left them on the sidewalk. The more I think about it, the more I realize the immense inequality that exists in this world.

How to fix these problems? Like many others before me, I have yet to figure out the solution to these structural problems. But I think any solution has to start at an individual level. I gave a little boy on the Metro a package of Italian biscuits today. Even though we didn’t speak the same language, I could tell by looking into his eyes that the treat made his day.