Years ago, I lived on the mainland in one of the
most impoverished towns in Belize. Everywhere I turned another child looked in
desperate need of my attention. Instinctively
I wanted to mother them, feed them, clothe them, and care for them the way I
had raised my children in America. I was overcome. I wanted to do something.
Protest. Get TV crews to witness the hunger. Start a soup kitchen. Most of the
children didn't have breakfast or shoes.
Every morning, I watched a young girl haul a bucket from a
cold water spigot by the street. It weighted five times as much as she. Her brothers and sisters stood in the bucket
and washed; then they reused the water for their clothes. At night, their mother stood in the yard and
washed from the same bucket. Water is
not scarce there; but, it does cost money.
Unless they wear school uniforms and pay a small school fee,
children aren't allowed to go to school.
In one family, it seems there was only enough money for one girl's
uniform. When it was hanging on the
line, the girl stayed home. The previous year, her older sister went to school
in the same uniform. Now she stays home full
time and watches the toddlers while her mother works.
The children never fight. After school, they all shared
their lessons and some chips.
I felt frustrated by the seeming indifference of those in
power. Then, knowing my concerns and teasing me about a soup kitchen, a good
Belizean friend commented while pointing to the avocado and mango trees which
were dripping with fruit: "Don't
worry. No child starves here. And besides, you don't have a big enough
kettle."
My friend was right, of course. Mangoes and bananas are
perfect for breakfast and shoes just aren't that important. But education should be available – uniform or
not. I'm happy to report the present government is working on it.
