how much?

I am quite certain that I have never bought an item without being asked about the cost by a Cambodian J Whether it be a desk, an office chair, a $5 rattan coat rack or bookshelf, a $1 moto or $2 tuk tuk ride the question is always there!  Their frankness is endearing.  The tone and the smile with which it is asked never allow room for anger or annoyance.  It is not just a question to foreigners either, whenever someone drops you off after giving you a ride, the other drivers around will ask what he was paid! 

I actually find it refreshing, to know that people are at least saying what they are thinking.  It is also a great reminder of where you are and the impression that you make on people everyday.  I don’t feel proud of spending what is an average months wage for someone here on one piece of furniture.  I always justify it in my mind…Western style…I NEED a desk for doing schoolwork and other things (it is also what holds all papers, receipts, documents, pens, tape, scissors, schoolbooks, etc…) and everyone has one right? Yet out of thirteen million people in this country, how many get by without a desk? Maybe 90% J These are things that stop me every day.  That make me wonder “Who am I? Why I was born where I was born? How do I define ‘normal’ or ‘average?’ Why do I think I need, deserve, or am entitled to so many THINGS?”  I just got back from visiting a village of over 1,000 families and not one of them has a bed with a mattress, a fridge, a bathroom, or even a light in their home so why do I need so much and want so much? Not even just physical things, I think I am entitled to making ‘my own decisions,’ to personal freedom at the expense of others, to eating until I am full and throwing the rest out, to learning more and more about the unspeakable issues and injustices of today without lifting a finger against them because what?  I’m lucky? Or blessed?

That is a joke. I know what I have been given; the rest is up to me. I know I have messed up in the past, what matters now is what I do today. And tomorrow.

What matters is if I take the ‘blessings’ and hoard them in my closet or pass them out to the crowds that call out to my heart every day. The crowds of women with aids that look 70 years old, but are only 29.  The crowds of babies without parents to feed them and love on them.  The crowds of people that are missing legs and arms or use of their ears or eyes, or maybe are mentally disabled.  The crowds who would give anything for a sip of water or a handful of rice.  WE ARE SURROUNDED BY THE POOR AND HUNGRY, THE WIDOW AND THE ORPAN.  Poor in every way, mentally, physically, and spiritually.  So don’t tell yourself that Jesus ONLY meant to serve those who are spiritually poor, it seems to me that it is usually a package deal.

How much did that cost?

How much will I give? Or will I keep it all for me and in the end lose everything.