Monday, November 16, 2009

From Green to Groan

A few weeks ago, I attended the Bioneers Conference in downtown Houston. It was one of those days had been a dessert; it would be a chocolate torte. A delicious day. The sun danced on lake water, children sang on an outdoor stage, and animals ran in the dog park.

After taking in the Bioneers Conference (Promotes green, social justice and human rights) we headed to the streets of Houston for adventure. As my husband and I made our way from site to site, we ran into three bewildered teenage girls. "Do you know where Sam Houston Park is?" Aren't those cell phone GPS's grand? A few key strokes later, we pointed them in the right direction. But before they left we asked for their story. Short version-they were attending a fund raising event to end world poverty. I could feel my interest rising.

We strolled around for a bit and found ourselves at the Sam Houston Park entrance. Hundreds walked the grounds. It was open to the public so without a clue we entered into what would be for me, one of the greatest educations of my life.

Who were these people? Either from India or Pakistan. Maybe they weren't Indians. These people were more Pakistanis, or perhaps Afghanis. We looked out of place and it seemed as if a few people stared at us. Poverty, illness and tragedy are universal and as I talked with people, any concepts of differences I held, dissolved. The people who looked different and distant now looked open and compassionate. One world - one family. We're in this together.

This unique fund raising event engages would-be donars in a compelling way. We went to a sectioned off area. First we entered and then stood in a dark tent. Immediately, we heard a loud noise, smoke pours in. We are in a simulated earthquake. We run. The guide opens the tent door and we emerge on a road with injured people who need help. An injured man asks if anyone is thirsty. Several hands go up and he gives pretend water. We each receive a stick-on colored dots to represent our drinking the water. The guide says, "You've just been contaminated by the water you've ingested. You have to get to the hospital.” The nearest hospital is ten miles. I'm already fighting the tears. It seems so real. The injured have ripped clothes and what looked like real blood on their bodies. They were good actors and appeared desperate and hopeless. I felt desperate for those who meet similar circumstances and never receive help. My throat hurt.

Our roles change, we go to a hospital setting and become medical personnel who operate on injured people (not real people, dummies of sort). We receive tools that can't do the job. We start the operations and if anyone does something to worsen their conditions, a bell rings. It was impossible to do the job with the tools we had. Before long we hear bells ring. We receive proper instruments and find how much easier it is to accomplish our tasks. The organization putting on the fund raiser provides medical supplies to the rural clinics they build. My nose drips. Snort, snort. My heart aches.

We go into class rooms and experience what traditional education is like in these impoverished countries. We sit in a class room covered in graffiti - in austere conditions. The teachers were harsh, dogmatic. Then we go to a classroom like the ones the Aga Khan Foundation (the organization sponsoring the fund-raiser) provides in these countries. Their teaching techniques are innovative and compassion rooted. We sing some of the lessons. We paint part of a tile to represent what we've learned. The tiles are later donated to a business and used to in a commercial building. I painted a little yellow sun.

There were movie theaters in several areas. We lay on the floor of a dome tent and the ceiling was the screen. Face after face, situation after situation, cascaded before us in an unspoken haunting plea for help.

We go to an area that depicts micro finance. We learn of the work conditions of the people. We do some of the work that the people have to do and experience the difficulties they face daily. We see a man (via movie) who builds doors. It takes months to build a door. Then he delivers the door in a small car. He hopes the building will still be there when he arrives. One movie highlighted workers in Tajikistan and the micro financing efforts of Aga Khan in that country. A few days earlier I loaned money though a micro lending program (Kiva) to a woman in Tajikistan. Small world. I felt an inner warm spot.

For birthdays and holidays my husband and I have a tradition of donating money to causes. We don't need any more stuff. His birthday was earlier in the month and we had not made his contribution yet. Now it was an easy decision. We gave to Aga Kahn. I salute the organization for their innovation, service and humanity. http://www.akdn.org/akf
That Saturday I attended the most innovative fundraiser of my life. It was another reminder. We vote with our dollars, time and attitude. We have the daily opportunity to cast votes for justice, equality, compassion and humanity. Don’t forget to cast your vote.







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