Reduced to numbers

Yesterday was dedicated to catching up on lost hours of snoozing due to a successfully packed weekend, trying to organize my thoughts and plans for the long-awaited Machu Picchu trip, and studying for a Sociology midterm. The themes: poverty, vulnerable populations, social spending, types of social politics, health, education, and various social programs in Ecuador. The reality of each of these themes is overwhelming, and I frequently catch myself speechless with my jaw hanging to the floor when I am reading about someone else's life while lying in my bed, my home-away-from-home.

Studying yesterday and talking with other students today brought me to another heart-stopping realization. As I recited the statistics about social spending on health (7% presupuesto, 1.7% PIB) and education(19% presupuesto, 3% PIB), parroted the percentages of literacy (90%) and average years of formal education (7), envisioned the 1/3 of children who do not finish primary school, and reminded myself of where the money spent on education actually goes (95% to teacher and administration salaries), I felt like preparing for this test was reducing all of my learning to mere numbers. The faces, stories, futures, and pasts were lost among statistics and percentages and clever diddies to remember that FODA stands for Fortaleza, Oportunidad, Debildad, and Amenaza.

Numbers are an easy way to compare one situation with another. For most governments, they are necessary to conduct an assessment of the country and decide what issues should take precedence. But numbers do not do justice to the situation of four young adults who have been abandoned and left without therapy or rehabilitation services. Left to spend their days without education, without encouragement, and without mothers or fathers or siblings with whom to grow up and make happy childhood memories. They do not do justice to the 11 year-old who rides the bus all day, collecting money from strangers and yelling "Cumbaya, Tumbaco, Cumbayo, Tumbaco" from the door as the bus approaches the next stop. Or the woman who carries a child and 30 pounds of corn on her back, groceries in her right hand and an umbrella in her left. The toddlers who wait in a cardboard box on the corner all day while Mom tries to sell gum, cigarettes, and various candies to passing cars at the intersection. The family of 8 that lives on potatoes and bread because they're cheap and filling, even though this diet lacks crucial vitamins and minerals necessary for a healthy life and growth. Yes, the numbers are stunning, and I think they should be accompanied by a conversation about the evidence of what we are seeing and ignoring every day as we pretend that memorizing numbers is more important than looking our neighbors in the eyes and asking what we can do to help.

Tomorrow I will rise refreshed and ready to give everything I have to those I can, and to learn all that is possible in the time I am awake.