Philanthropy

I am content in my relative certainty that there is no 'fate,' no greater power, no omnipotent god that makes things happen at just the right time, for just the right reason. But there are times where experience and information and beliefs and emotions conspire to challenge that relative certainty. The challenge is never enough to shake my 'faith' in the uselessness of faith, but it is enough to cause me to remember what I think it is to be human.

As I wandered the badly worn, hole-ridden cobblestone streets of Ajijic and saw the poverty that allows many residents to live in little more than shanties, I was ashamed. I was ashamed to be looking for something cheap enough to let me retire early to a life of relative ease and affluence. When I saw the rib-cages of starving dogs and the dusty streets and the children satisfied with playing with discarded, broken toys, I wondered just where my humanity has been of late.

Stopping to view a relatively modest house (for the area), I was struck how very far above what most Mexicans in these little villages on Lake Chapala can afford this little house was. I saw ancient pickup trucks and long-dead Datsuns that had been brought back to life not because the vehicles were particularly appealing, but because they were all their owners could hope to afford. People who clean homes or build streets, or sweep them, at least have income from their efforts, though their incomes are miniscule compared to incomes of most of the people they serve.

I stopped at a roadside taco stand, where a man was cooking barbacoa tacos on a gas-powered stainless steel griddle. To this man and his family, I suspect that job and that tiny little building were fine. But I look around at the galleries and the fine restaurants and the magnificent homes in this Mexican paradise community and I see people like me, people for whom wealth is never enough.

After I returned from my little sojourn with family members, I decided to read a piece that an old friend had blogged about recently, as it dealt with some of the obscenities of being fixated on wealth. What I saw was that, but something more. His words propelled some of those thoughts that conspired to challenge my humanity. He wrote an item entitled, The Good News? You're Rich. The Bad News? Never Rich Enough. It would pay dividends to pay heed to another piece he wrote, the one I initially intended to read.

I am not suggesting that all the wealthy people in the villages surrounding this paradise give all their money to the poor. I'm suggesting, instead, that they keep the poor in mind when they are spending their wealth and they keep the poor in mind when they are looking at the next big purchase that will demonstrate to their wealthy friends that they have excellent taste.

I wonder how many people here have considered offering micro-loans to people in this area for whom banks are out of reach, but for whom hard work and integrity are values that are unwaivering? I wonder if I would have the strength of character, were I to move here, to give up some of my wealth to help others achieve a fraction of what I have come to take for granted?

I won't stop wanting money, I suppose, and the freedom it promises. But maybe one day I will come to embrace, in my heart as much as in my head, that wealth comes in many forms and that helping other people achieve simple financial hope may well be the highest form of philanthropy.