Rich? Me??

I have never in my life referred to my family as rich. Sure we always lived comfortably in our happy little suburban world just outside of the metropolitan area of New York City, but I have never considered us to be economically rich. I remember always hearing “so-and-so can go on that trip because his/her parents can afford it...” And I remember being constantly reminded that “money doesn't grow on trees” and that it's important to save up because “you never know what will happen in the future.” Rich to me, were the people who bought brand new clothes or name brand sneakers whenever they wanted, the people with big in-ground pools, the kids who went to Disney World every year, the kids who had their own TVs in their rooms and the newest video games. Rich meant the kids who were gifted cars for their 16^th birthdays and the kids who's parents paid for college and then sent them spending money every month.

I remember learning in one of my Sociology classes that in the “middle classes” in the States, those in the lower middle class tend to thankfully and humbly consider themselves well-off because they compare themselves to the lower class that they have just moved up out of. On the other hand, those in the middle to upper middle classes tended to consider themselves worse off than they are because they're constantly comparing themselves to those that have more than them. I remember thinking about that for a few days after my class, and I convinced myself that I had always considered myself blessed and that I didn't live comparing myself to those who had more than me, but I don't think I was being honest with myself there.

Upon coming here, to the second poorest country in the Western Hemisphere, one of the first things our Peace Corps trainers told us was to prepare ourselves for the widespread belief that all North Americans are rich. I remember being surprised by this and joking that if anyone every tried to rob me, they'd be sorely disappointed. I wasn't one of the “gringos” that was here to spend thousands of dollars passing through the touristy cities and staying in expensive hotels. I was a Peace Corps volunteer coming from what I considered to be a humble family back in New York. I had college loans to go home to, and a laughable savings account that was decades away from ever being ready to put a down payment on a house or anything remotely close to that.

Of course I knew I was walking into a developing country and that I'd be living with a “poor” family with way less than what I was used to, but I never considered this to be a sign of my “high class” in this world. I hadn't given this topic much direct thought until my best friend here said to me last week, “who would've ever thought that a poor Nica guy and a high class New York girl would be best friends?” I literally laughed. “High class?! I'm not high class!” But later on that night I got to thinking about it. It is obvious that my socio-economic status is way higher than almost everyone here in my little Nicaraguan town, but surely I'm not high class. Then I spent last night showing some of my students pictures from home – pictures from Thanksgiving and Christmas – and I started noticing the backdrops of all of them. There we were in my dining room with a china cabinet filled with crystal and china behind us, a giant dining room table filled with plates over-flowing with food, and a row of cars parked in the driveway out front. How can I show them these pictures and then claim to not be rich? Just the idea of personally owned vehicles signifies wealth. Let alone a two floor house, my own bedroom, and family of educated, employed individuals.

Complete extended families live together all their lives here. Guys my age share beds with their brothers and babies sleep with their parents. Many times, one bicycle is shared by an entire household. Living room chairs – always a combination of wooden rocking chairs and plastic chairs – are moved to the table when there are guests to act as dining room chairs, and moved out to the yard as patio furniture when the heat inside becomes unbearable. “Bathrooms” are outdoor latrines and outdoor showers, and sometimes only outdoor areas to bathe with a bucket of well water. My department capital has paved streets and stores and cybers and bakeries etc., but outside of the 5x10 block center, it's all dirt roads out to the “barrios.” People out there have wells instead of running water and some don't even have electricity – in the department capital! People that have land and can afford to maintain it plant rice, beans, and corn so they can eat without having to worry about where the food will come from every month. Others make weekly trips into the market to buy their necessities from their favorite vendors. My friends buy their clothes in cheap stores that sell leftovers from Aeropastale and Hollister. Students in my poorer schools wear hand-me-downs or buy from used clothing stores when their parents can afford the trip into Rivas.

I can't even try to say I'm not rich after considering all of the above. There was never a time in my life when I lived without hot water, let alone without potable water. I've always had electricity, my own room, a sturdy, insulated house with more than enough space for my family and plenty of guests. Carpets and tiles, couches, a yard, a pool, my own clothes, a car, a college education. There was never a day in my life when I thought I might not have dinner, and I'm sure that no matter how hard times got, my parents were never so strapped for cash that feeding us became a worry.

I've tried to rationalize this in my head by reminding myself that things are completely different in the States. That we have taxes and insurance and other bills to pay. Food costs more, clothes cost more, travel costs more. A higher standard of living costs more...period. But there's no way around it. No matter how many bills we have to pay, we are rich beyond what most people here could imagine.

It really is devastating the effect that capitalism and greed can have on a society. There I was growing up in a big house in a clean, safe neighborhood, with a washer and dryer, and a stove and fridge, and way more clothes and food than I needed; going on family vacations in the summers, watching cable or using the internet right in my living room, learning from educated teachers in a well-equipped school...and yet I complained about not having clothes from the “cool” stores, or about not having movie channels or about my parents not giving me spending money on the weekends. And it's not just back in the States where the media and commercialism pollute the minds of any and everyone they touch...here my friends and students fantasize about fancy basketball sneakers and they walk around comparing cell phones and looking for the nicest clothes they can afford. They live in poverty and are still inundated with commercials about the newest electronics and household appliances, and they live watching movies and soap operas from rich countries, talking about how “tuani/salvaje” (cool/awesome) it would be to live like that. It's sickening.

I think I need to take a moment to thank my parents and my family for raising me the way they did. I was always reminded that we had to work for our money and I was never allowed to think that I'm a “high class girl.” I was raised to be humble and to think about how I could use what I have to help others who might not be as lucky as me. Apparently this “humility” that I was raised with is something that my friends here can see in me. More than once people have commented that I'm humble like they are even though I come from a completely different, much richer life in another world. I guess that's because I've honestly never seen myself as rich. The fact of the matter is though, I am rich and there's not a single person in my life back home that shouldn't consider themselves to be so. We have so much in the States – just in terms of material things, let alone in terms of worldwide educational, professional and travel opportunities. When I told one of my students that there is poverty in the States too, he responded, “maybe, but not like here.” And it's true.

So thank you mom and dad for always reminding me that material things were not important, even though you managed to raise us with all the comforts we could've ever wanted. Omi and Grandma, I can still hear echoes of your reminders “you don't know how good you have it,” and “that trip to the Game Farm costs about 5 hours of work at minimum wage.” I always knew that I had it good, but I guess I didn't realize how good until I really started analyzing the situation. I'm so thankful for everything I've been blessed with, but especially for being raised to value family, friendship, and laughter more than anything else. It's obvious that those are the most important aspects of life no matter where you are in the world.

Also, I think this video is awesome...you should definitely watch it and then share it.  Fight the Materials Economy!! We don't need all that STUFF! Let's do what we can to protect rather than exploit our resources, and let's think about what we really value in our own lives.  Don't let the media control your mind!

Watch this vid - http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=gLBE5QAYXp8