The Madness of Hope

Poverty Is Not Contagious

Growing up as a kid in Zambia, we were always in the bush with our parents. I remember many children with large ringworm splotches on their bald heads and bodies. Many had conjunctivitis and had red puffy eyes with pus on the lids, often sealing part of the eyelid shut. The kids had runny noses and none of the babies wore diapers. We would hold them and inevitable get peed on. But that was life. We played in the villages with all the children.

My mom and dad always told us not to touch our faces until we got home and washed our hands with soap. That was hard for a kid when, naturally, our hands would gravitate towards our face to scratch our hair, or rub our nose. But we obeyed. For we did not want ring worm or pink eye.

A few years ago my husband and I took our children to Washington DC. To this day, they remember all the Japanese tourists wearing face masks. They even wrote a song about them!

I cannot remember well the details: if there was a virus going around or some other illness. However, coming from living overseas, this impressed my children and they asked, “Do they think Americans are full of contagious diseases?”

And I wondered, what would I think if they came to visit me in my home and wore their masks? Would I be offended?

Yet, we, as Americans, are often very insensitive when we visit other countries. The amount of hand sanitizer used is incredible.

I remember interpreting for a medical team in Honduras a couple years ago. The doctors and nurses changed gloves and used hand sanitizer between each patient. We are used to this practice here in the US but in Honduras, medical personal rarely use either.

My kids and I refused to use either as it did not feel right for us. These people had probably never seen a Doctor with gloves and we wondered what they were thinking. Did it make them feel diseased, dirty, an ‘untouchable’? I hurt for those who might be made to feel second class in any way. Visions of ‘Ghost Buster’ and the CDC personal in ‘Ebola’ stuck out in my memory.

After all, these people were normal, lovely people. They lived in poverty, and some had viruses, colds, or parasites. But they were just like you and me.

Do not get me wrong as I do believe there are times when caution is needed. But the end of the trip, the Doctors and Nurses had put the gloves aside and did not use them unless they were using needles or were touching someone who looked contagious.

That gave me joy.