Looking through other people's shoes

I thought it was a bad idea, distributing cooked food during one of our mobile clinics. Of course, a major part of it was dogma saying no. The often heard "XXX doesn't do this" or "this is not what XXX does".

And of course, already burdened with this negative perception, the rationalisation came fast and quick. It's not professional. We are NOT a charity (heavens forbid). If you want to do food distribution, we have to do it properly. We shouldnt distribute cooked food - what if there is food poisoning? It is not sustainable. And tens more boring intellectual arguments. Is there malnutrition? Show me.

Thus arises the disconnect between the intellect and the heart. The oh-so-clever brain and the oh-so-feeling heart.

My brain was tricked today. They said to just help them go and pick up the food. That it's already cooked and packed. But it wasn't. We had to cook, clean up, and pack. The three of us - me and two other refugees.

And for once, the playing field was levelled. I was no longer the NGO with power and money and western medicine and knowledge and a university education. For that 2 hours, I was just a cook. A cleaner. Just like them. For those precious minutes, i felt a connection with my beneficiaries that i never felt before. There is a difference between being among them, and being one of them. Being one of humanity.

And for the future, i will remember that i have to say no not just with my mind, but with my heart. And the word "Proximity", bandied in the NGO world will never mean the same again.

To look through other people's eyes, you have to be in their shoes.