Perspective

I used to think the worst sound and sight in the world was my alarm clock, rudely waking me up blinking the hour to leave my warm and comfortable bed. What would follow was the beeping and constant stop and go of Boston traffic. As I sit here in my hammock, with a little over four months left in Guyana, my perspective has changed greatly. Traffic is just a minor nuisance in the grand scheme of life. What I know I will always remember as the worst sound and sight to me, after my experience in Guyana, is the emphatic anguished screams and starving practically dead eyes of the animals here. I hear this sound pretty regularly, from the comfort of my hammock or bed, animals getting hit by speeding drivers too busy to slow down. Riding my bike to school or walking the streets of New Amsterdam, I see dogs with ribs sticking out, covered in ticks and mites so bad their backs are like leather. It stops me in my tracks and makes me cringe. Some dog trying to get a scrap of food, getting pelted by a rock or kicked. Some cat getting it's tail pulled. Seeing the body of a puppy, undoubtedly following its mom across the road. I empathize with this poor animal and my heart breaks a little inside whenever I see or hear their plight. An alarm clock has nothing on this.

The obvious difference between persons who value pets and those that don't is not values and morals... it is economics. It is also important to recognize and note that it is not Guyana alone that struggles with animal care; I saw it in Chile when I studied abroad and in Mexico on vacation. I have heard other Peace Corps Volunteers at other posts, or friends who have traveled outside of the United States, lament about the plight of animals in said developing country. It is not that persons in developing worlds are apathetic to the struggles of animals, it is that they can't afford to be empathetic. I see the disparity in economic distribution even within Guyana. The very fact that the grocery shops in the Capitol and in the major towns carry cat and dog food, shows me that there is a vast discrepancy in financial situations between the major towns and country areas in Guyana. There are even several pet stores in the Capitol that sell “foofoo” pet clothes and toys, that makes me wonder... where are the animal lovers in Guyana that are buying these things? Clearly, they have a customer base in the Capitol, so these people do exist. These people can afford it as most of the economic activity is centralized around the Capitol and major towns in Guyana. 

I live in a country area and must travel into the nearest major town to purchase my animals' food. When I travel home, the taxi drivers always give me funny looks as I lug out the bag of dog and cat food, calling out to my dog or cat to let them know I am home. Walking my dog on a leash around my neighborhood causes a commotion and is such a foreign concept to persons, I often hear as I walk by, “crazy white lady.” Traveling with my pets to take them to the vet in the Capitol, I have received my fair share of questions and comments. I am constantly explaining to taxi drivers and travelers that my dog is a pet, not a random stray. She will not bite you and she has all of her vaccinations (although I often clarify for safety sake [as everyone seems to know where the “white girl” lives], she won't bite you now, but if you come in my yard she will bite your head off). Never had I had to explain why I was walking my dog Freckles (RIP my little furry friend) in my neighborhood back home.

When I told some members of my community about spaying my pets to avoid overpopulating my home and neighborhood with animals I couldn't take care of, they looked at me puzzled. The response I got was, “anyone would be glad to have a puppy or kitten like mine- why would I do that?” My response naturally was, there are so many starving, neglected and abused animals here, if anyone wants one all they need to do is pick one out of the hundreds digging through trash piles. Perplexed, they shake their heads saying, no, people would want a dog like yours. What they don't realize, is that Bora and Phoenix were once street animals, covered in fleas and ticks, starving and begging. There is nothing special about them that makes them different from the next street dog or cat; it is how I treated them that made them different in the end. It made them playful and goofy because they didn't have to devote time to finding food and begging. My cat loves to snuggle and sleeps in my bed every night because it is her home. They both come when I call their names or yell out “breakfast” to my cat because I am their pack leader. Their coats gleam because they are vaccinated and bathed. They don't look like typical Guyanese stray animals because their bodies haven't been decimated by parasites, numerous pregnancies, or starvation. They are loved and cared for, so this is why they are who they are today.

Conversations always seem to lead to the same place when I talk about my animals. I am asked if I am taking my animals home. I uncomfortably say, “yes.” It is uncomfortable because I can see the wheels turning in their head, undoubtedly thinking, “Oh wow! These animals get to go to America and get their “visa” and I can't even afford to leave my region.” It is always a humbling conversation that makes me reflect on the circumstances of my life. Had I been born in a developing country, where would I be? Who would I be? Would I be judging this crazy white lady who spends precious money on her animals and lets them sleep in her house at night because she doesn't want them to be lonely?

It can only be my American background from a family that cherishes its pets that makes me care here in Guyana. Let me rephrase that, it is my economic background as an American that has afforded me the opportunity to allow me to care. When I see a stray, I see what could have been. If only someone gave him or her a bath, fed it some food (regularly), taught it to do tricks, gave it a kiss on the nose, vowed to protect it from life on the streets. But that is not the reality here in Guyana, or in the majority of the world for that matter. It can never be the reality until the human condition improves. I struggled for a long time, and still struggle to understand. But given the economic situation of most Guyanese (or citizens of the world outside North America and parts of Europe), who must often times struggle to put a hot meal on the table for their children... how can they be pressed to feed an extra mouth? It is a struggle to survive and a thieving cat or dog is taking away from the family survival. I am certainly not justifying animal abuse or neglect... absolutely not. Just because you live in poverty does not give you a free pass to be cruel.

Part of living and integrating into another culture is to understand where another person is coming from. One must understand their values, their education, their opportunities (or lack thereof), and their beliefs. All of these factors led them to be who they came to be today. Change can only happen when one understands why something is the way it is. It is so easy to sit on your pedestal and condemn without taking the time to verify facts or motivations.  I can understand how people choose their family over a dog or cat. I don't like it, but I must recognize that were I in the same situation, I am certain I would choose feeding and clothing my child over a dog. I don't have a quick fix answer to change or improve what is happening to animals in developing countries; I wish I did. Until things change in the developing world and poverty is eradicated, this is how it will continue to be because family always comes first.

I know Guyanese are a loving, vibrant people with the capacity to love animals. I have seen them interact with my cat and dog, at first a little shy, but then growing to adore them like I do. My students eagerly ask about my cat Bora or dog Phoenix, or the kittens I rescued over the school vacation. When I tell them that my animals were once “homeless” like the puppies and kittens on the street, I get incredulous looks of disbelief. Time and again, I tell them that they can find an animal on the street and take steps to make it like mine... but the chance that they will actually do this is virtually zero. These kids don't need to worry about providing for a family yet. They don't worry about work or buying groceries or soap... but their parents do. It is why I found a litter of cats strayed on the side of the road. Everyone saw them, knew where they came from and who dumped them in the ditch. They heard their hungry screams the day and night they were abandoned until I picked them up. The simple fact was, no one could take them in- not out of indifference, but because their priorities were to their families. One could easily judge this person without understanding their motivations. But we are all human; I can't imagine the torment the person went through as they abandoned those kittens to their fate, knowing full well that separating them from their mother would mean death for these kittens. Perhaps they drove them to the next village to spare their children from having to witness sweet little balls of fur shriveling to nothing, suffering and starving. Perhaps they did it out of fear that their children would learn too young that life is unfair and there is so much pain and suffering in the world for those in poverty. Until these parents are able to not worry daily about feeding or providing for their families, they will continue to hear the cries of these animals and be able to do nothing.

Being an American in Guyana with this situation is definitely a challenge. My eldest brother, Peter, when discussing a situation that affected our family that I wanted to change, told me before I left for Peace Corps two years ago, that I needed to recognize that there are some things that are completely out of my control and I can only do so much. Applying this theory to Guyana: what was I going to do when I got to here? Feed every child, adopt every animal, change every school system? It is simply not possible. All a person can do is what they can do. Perhaps knowing me, he recognized that I am an overly empathetic person and would struggle with what I would see or hear not only here, but in life, and this led him to utter those words of wisdom to me.

His advice has guided me over the last two years. What can I do? The simple answer is, just because I can't save all the animals or feed all the kids here, doesn't mean I should give up and do nothing. While I can't provide for these kids financially, I can certainly love all of the kids I come across in my community. I can show them kindness, support and that I care about them and their future. I can give them my time and listen to them when they want to talk to me. I can give them a hug and bright smile (even if I am struggling myself that day) in the morning when they run towards me as I walk down the walkway at school. As to the animals, with my two pets I can lead by example, showing that there is another way. When I see kids pelting a cow or dog I can tell them that animals have feelings. I can set food outside my gate when I have leftovers. I can bathe and cuddle the puppies that wander into my yard when I have the resources. I can answer the questions of persons asking me why I treat these animals like I do. It isn't much, but it is one act of love towards these puppies and dogs than they knew previously. Unfortunately, volunteers have adopted animals that succumb to the elements, natural and man made, here in Guyana. When offering my condolences to another volunteer after the loss of her cat, she said to me, “you know what though... I gave that cat a better two years than she ever would have known had I not picked her up and taken her home. I loved that cat and she knew it.” At the end of the day, we all have limited resources and can only do so much, but our actions are what will make a difference. Our actions are always priceless.

Plant dem seeds, watch dem spread.

As a Peace Corps Volunteer, it is grilled into you, for your long term sanity, that if you plant a seed (the work we do) you will never get to sit under the tree's shade (see the results). I have always been okay with this, understanding that working with children, you won't see the end results until they grow up and make choices about the way they will live their lives. Will they continue on and go to secondary school or university? Will they pick up a needle and choose to do drugs? Will they choose to raise a family and teach their children to read, about proper hygiene, acceptance and to love all creatures big and small? Will they choose a life of crime?

Fact is, we don't really know how any of our lives will turn out. People come in and out of our lives all the time planting these little seeds. I can't pin it to one particular seed that made me who I am today. It is each person who has come into my short life that has made me who I am. My hopes, fears and joys are shared with my friends. My family taught me discipline, respect, and showed me how to love unconditionally. My teachers guided my values, and encouraged socialization, teaching me more than just reading, writing and math. My colleagues have taught me team work, compromise and communication. The reality is, there is no one person that makes a person who we are. Everyday we learn something new from someone; everyday we make choices that could change the direction of our lives. So whether these children turn out good or bad, it won't be because of me alone; it will be because of all of the people in their lives.

I would like to think that the seeds we plant within the kids we work with as Peace Corps Volunteers will ultimately flourish, not withering up and disintegrating shortly after we leave. As we all know, seeds need careful attention, care and nutrients to blossom. When we leave after our service is up, what will happen to these seeds? This is, I think, every volunteers fear... will what I spent two years on matter? As I approach my close of service, it is my hope that the seeds I have planted will stay deeply rooted and will find what they need from their community, teachers, and friends, who have also received their little seeds.

The other day a parent came into school to volunteer in the school library. We had a very interesting conversation that clarified for me, that even though we volunteers may not be able to see how the children will turn out, we are making a difference in their lives NOW, and in the long run, that is all that matters. She informed me that she hears her child and his friends always talking about this Miss Aly lady, and how Miss Aly always helps them pick out books and helps them and is so nice. How I comment on their school work and tell them good job, even if I can't tell what they are drawing, or if they can't spell something correctly but tried their best. She sees changes in her child.

Then she told me a story that while it kind of blew my mind, and showed me that seeds can be replanted by the most unlikely of little ones. One day, she was in her yard and she heard one of my little girl students telling her mom, "Mommy, why do you beat me? It is because you don't love me isn't it? But that is okay, because I have a miss who loves me." The mother replied, "Who is this miss?" Student: "Miss Aly". Mother: "Well she doesn't know you are bad." Student: "Yes she does. And when I am bad she tells me I am bad and tells me how to be good. She doesn't need to beat me. She loves me." I don't know the response of this parent, but I can imagine it stopped her in her tracks and provided a moment of reflection. Her child just made her think.

The parent volunteer told me that overhearing this conversation got her thinking and started a conversation with her sister about how she believes many Guyanese parents raise their children. The children had replanted some seeds of their own! She said she now sees clearly that many parents in her sphere think that the role of being a parent is to provide, "food, clothes and send them to school,” and their work is done as a parent. But seeing this interaction between the little girl and her mother, coupled with the joy in the kids faces talking about their school work or books, or hearing about the small attentions I give to them at school, made her understand that there is more to being a parent than providing the bare necessities. She said these interactions made her realize that being a parent is about taking care of their happiness and their little souls, guiding them morally and showing them you love them and care, whether they do good or bad. She told me that she wanted to give back to her son to show him how much she cared about him, and one small thing she could do was help in the library, a place he loves. With this attitude, I can already see that her tree will be strong, and I know that her son's tree will grow up strong and beautiful, nurtured and loved. It would be plausible that many others who pass through the library and come into contact with her will continue to be cared for under her shade and love.

So we may not see the end result of the seeds we are planting, but we must push on and plant as many seeds as we can, in as many places as we can. You never know who will replant some seeds of their own, and where. With the grace of whatever higher power is out there, some seeds will grow strong and powerful and provide shade and protection for those that aren't yet strong enough to care for themselves. Since we are all interconnected, impacting everyone we come across, in some way, it makes sense that we should all strive to be unconditionally accepting, be utterly kind and patient, be a mentor, a friend, a shoulder to cry on, an empathetic ear, be someone's teacher or their personal hero.