It has been said that money can’t buy happiness. That may be true, but it does buy things that make me happy. Yesterday’s big purchases were a cart full of groceries and a new desk chair But it is not just material things for my own benefit that give me some feel-good moments. The mountain mama widow I provide grocery money for each week always expresses genuine gratitude, and it feels good to be making a difference in her life in some small way. Yesterday she pleaded for a little extra because her kids all had some fever/congestion thing going on. Of course, I obliged. Her thank you message included this photo:
Speaking of sick children, my friend Bhel is currently in Manila, getting her son’s heart condition reviewed at a couple of the major medical centers there. There are still some more tests to be done, but it appears he may be eligible for a program that will provide the required surgery at a significant discount. Here’s hoping things turn out that way.
I was reminded today of the project I initiated to train the woman I thought would be my caregiver here when I retired. Unbeknownst to me, she had different ideas, and next month will mark the fifth anniversary of the broken heart she gave in return for my generosity. Before I knew what was in store for me, I featured her in a post called “Pay it Forward.” In a weird kind of way, maybe that is what she wound up doing. I have no idea whether she’s still with the Englishman she dumped me for or not, but someone besides me will ultimately benefit from the training I paid for, and I guess that’s a form of charity too.
I came across another post called “Charitably speaking,” where I compare my friend in Cambodia paying to have a house built for his girl’s family and my rejection of beggars trying to nickel and dime me while interrupting me in my important work of beer drinking. Yeah, I can be a dick sometimes, too.
Of course, the lion’s share of my “good deeds” is directed towards the hardworking bargirls I encounter on a regular basis. I’m not talking about the prostitutes here; these are the girls working hard on eight to twelve-hour shifts to pay the rent. I’ve been asking around town, and it seems almost all the bars have a standard salary of 200 pesos per day. That’s the equivalent of four dollars, folks. So those lady drink commissions genuinely are a big deal in giving them the ability to make ends meet. I am sincerely glad that I’m able to help out my handful of regulars.
I had a 500 pesos voucher coupon for Alaska Club, and I put it to use last night. And now I have some more Joy in my life:
Anyway, I’ve been thinking about a name to use in conjunction with my charity projects. What do y’all think of “Sweet Father”? It’s original but has a ring of familiarity, doesn’t it?
It’s feeding night at Hideaway Bar, and I’ll be providing a large Hawaiian pizza for dinner.
And I’m sure I won’t be drinking alone tonight, but it is for a good cause!
As always, thanks for your indulgence. I’ll be back tomorrow with pics from today’s hike and maybe some from whatever tonight brings.
Well, you’re doing what good you can. Six kids, eh? It’s a neverending tide.
At first, that overhead shot of the cupcakes looked like chocolate truffles.
Looking forward to the hike pics.
Yeah, I was shocked to hear she had six children. Her body (at least the parts I’ve seen) doesn’t show much wear and tear. But if someone asked why poverty is so pervasive in this country, pointing to the abundance of unwed mothers would be high on the list of reasons.
Those cupcakes went like hotcakes with the girls.
It is surprising (or maybe not) that the younger generation does not make the connection between early single motherhood and poverty.
A pretty major disconnect. “Grandma had a kid at 17, dropped out of HS, never able to go to college. Continues to do menial labor to make ends meet. Mom had me when she was 17, had to drop out of HS, could not go to college. Working menial jobs. Oh yeah, I am now 17. But at least I have a boyfriend who loves me!!!!”
Brian, yeah, and especially now when birth control should be easily attainable. It seems to be a cultural thing–young women want kids even if they can’t afford them. And damn, they start young. I’ve seen girls with babies that at least appear to be underage–I tell myself, “that must be her sister,” but who knows for sure.
I know a woman here with a teenage daughter in high school. I was considering sponsoring her higher education and had some preliminary talks with the mom about doing so. One day she comes to me all excited and says, “I’m going to be a grandmother!”. Yep, she was thrilled about her 17-year-old being pregnant. And so the cycle of poverty continues.