**** the poor
Apr 13th 2014, 9:57 am
#47
"Insert witty title here"
Joined: Nov 2012
Location: dxb
Posts: 2,251
Re: **** the poor
As already mentioned above, the term is relative...BUT...isnt everything relative? Health, wealth, kindness, terrorism, a good death?
When you know that someone will come and hand you some money on a weekly basis and that most of your truly basic needs are met by the government, you might think of yourself as poor in that country, but in all honesty, and I say that with as much respect for that poor person's feelings as I can, but he hasnt seen proper poverty yet.
I can only quote from my own experiences, limited as they are but I will give you an example of the kind of poverty I am talking about.
A very very long time ago I ran away from home for a few months (ideological fool that I was and have profoundly apologized to my parents for putting them through that, since) found myself on the outskirts of Hyderabad, Sindh. Long story short, I got a bed space in a rented room full of other families, one large room with no beds or furniture etc. Only mattresses on the floor. You had to leave the mattress on the roof in the sun so the bed bugs would leave you long enough in the night so you can maybe sleep. One washroom. And lord help you if you need to go and there already is a line. You just went outside behind the house. The water was obviously not filtered, just your standard Indus River water, definitely not drinkable but you still drink it. There was a small kitchen type but no one cooked, yes no gas. So you just used the kitchen sink to wash your own plates if you brought some food back with you and ate there.
Some of them had their wives and kids with them there. So sleeping at night was an experience in itself. The kids will always be kids obviously so what can you do? You just shutup and try and get as much sleep as you can. The women had setup a curtained part of the room where they would change and all but so many people in one room with the electricity going away after every 2 hours for an hour, god the smell! No air-conditioning obviously. We had a large balcony which was airy and nice and at nights we would sit out and talk or not talk and just listen, but you couldn’t sleep there, the mosquitoes would just eat you alive. Active risk of malaria or similar diseases. Oh and if you get sick, you just don’t think about it. Because going to the local clinic means money. There was a government hospital which provided free checkups and some form of free medicine but it was only open from 9am to 2pm so you either took the day off and didn’t earn money, or you just kept your head down and worked through whatever was it that was ailing you then. The kids in the room were always sick, runny noses, coughing etc. It is NOT that the parents didn’t care, no parent can stand their kid being sick, I can guarantee you that. But what do you do if you have no money. The women had it the worst. Take care of the kids, take care of the men, take care of themselves, wash their stuff, try and keep a sense of decency and smiling through it all.
I had found a job at a construction site doing whatever they told me to do, which basically means picking heavy stuff up and carrying it upstairs. Obviously no health and safety, helmets, gloves etc. You know after a month I had hands of raw steel. I was the youngest one so I was running around all the time but there were old men and women there as well doing the same thing as me. 50s, 60s, doesnt matter, as long as you can work, the foreman wont say no. Although he was a bit soft on the women, they were allowed more breaks etc but I think he had other reasons for that.
If you get tired and sit down and he sees you sitting god forbid, you get docked half a days pay. Which was Rs. 100 (£0.98 according to those days rates) for unskilled labor for a full day, sunrise to sundown with an hour off in the afternoon. Get paid in the evening, drag yourself to the nearest local 'chappar hotel' (cheap cheap food) and have dal and roti or mixed vegetable or if you want to splurge then aloo qeema (minced meat and potatoes) but these guy buy the cheap kind of meat, you usually ended up with a rotten stomach so you try and stay away from it
Come back home and try and get a spot in the queue for a shower, wash your dirty clothes during what time you get in the washroom and hope they dry out by the next morning. Next morning you are left with just enough money in your pocket for a big breakfast from the same hotel (eat as much as possible because you have to work the whole day) and just enough money left for as much as you can buy in the afternoon lunch time. We were always thinking about food. I was always thinking about food. About fruits. About sweets. About coke/pepsi/juices. Icecream. The food that my mother used to make. In the early days I would see someone walking along on the street from where I was working while him eating something and I would imagine what the taste would be like, and I would quietly cry because I knew what it tasted like and I missed it. But I was young then. After a while you just tough up, then it doesn’t get to you. The kids were pretty tough as well but everyone was always hungry. I didn’t matter if you just had something to eat, if someone offered something, you took it and ate it. But you never ask for it. And its not because you are proud, there is no pride in poverty. You don’t ask because later on he might ask from you and then you wont want to share. After a while you can tell from the eyes who is hungry and who isn’t. The eyes can tell.
So now I try and help anyone I can, because I never want to go back to it again and I would never want my kids to feel that hunger.
Sorry for the rant, I think I needed to get this out of my system.
When you know that someone will come and hand you some money on a weekly basis and that most of your truly basic needs are met by the government, you might think of yourself as poor in that country, but in all honesty, and I say that with as much respect for that poor person's feelings as I can, but he hasnt seen proper poverty yet.
I can only quote from my own experiences, limited as they are but I will give you an example of the kind of poverty I am talking about.
A very very long time ago I ran away from home for a few months (ideological fool that I was and have profoundly apologized to my parents for putting them through that, since) found myself on the outskirts of Hyderabad, Sindh. Long story short, I got a bed space in a rented room full of other families, one large room with no beds or furniture etc. Only mattresses on the floor. You had to leave the mattress on the roof in the sun so the bed bugs would leave you long enough in the night so you can maybe sleep. One washroom. And lord help you if you need to go and there already is a line. You just went outside behind the house. The water was obviously not filtered, just your standard Indus River water, definitely not drinkable but you still drink it. There was a small kitchen type but no one cooked, yes no gas. So you just used the kitchen sink to wash your own plates if you brought some food back with you and ate there.
Some of them had their wives and kids with them there. So sleeping at night was an experience in itself. The kids will always be kids obviously so what can you do? You just shutup and try and get as much sleep as you can. The women had setup a curtained part of the room where they would change and all but so many people in one room with the electricity going away after every 2 hours for an hour, god the smell! No air-conditioning obviously. We had a large balcony which was airy and nice and at nights we would sit out and talk or not talk and just listen, but you couldn’t sleep there, the mosquitoes would just eat you alive. Active risk of malaria or similar diseases. Oh and if you get sick, you just don’t think about it. Because going to the local clinic means money. There was a government hospital which provided free checkups and some form of free medicine but it was only open from 9am to 2pm so you either took the day off and didn’t earn money, or you just kept your head down and worked through whatever was it that was ailing you then. The kids in the room were always sick, runny noses, coughing etc. It is NOT that the parents didn’t care, no parent can stand their kid being sick, I can guarantee you that. But what do you do if you have no money. The women had it the worst. Take care of the kids, take care of the men, take care of themselves, wash their stuff, try and keep a sense of decency and smiling through it all.
I had found a job at a construction site doing whatever they told me to do, which basically means picking heavy stuff up and carrying it upstairs. Obviously no health and safety, helmets, gloves etc. You know after a month I had hands of raw steel. I was the youngest one so I was running around all the time but there were old men and women there as well doing the same thing as me. 50s, 60s, doesnt matter, as long as you can work, the foreman wont say no. Although he was a bit soft on the women, they were allowed more breaks etc but I think he had other reasons for that.
If you get tired and sit down and he sees you sitting god forbid, you get docked half a days pay. Which was Rs. 100 (£0.98 according to those days rates) for unskilled labor for a full day, sunrise to sundown with an hour off in the afternoon. Get paid in the evening, drag yourself to the nearest local 'chappar hotel' (cheap cheap food) and have dal and roti or mixed vegetable or if you want to splurge then aloo qeema (minced meat and potatoes) but these guy buy the cheap kind of meat, you usually ended up with a rotten stomach so you try and stay away from it
Come back home and try and get a spot in the queue for a shower, wash your dirty clothes during what time you get in the washroom and hope they dry out by the next morning. Next morning you are left with just enough money in your pocket for a big breakfast from the same hotel (eat as much as possible because you have to work the whole day) and just enough money left for as much as you can buy in the afternoon lunch time. We were always thinking about food. I was always thinking about food. About fruits. About sweets. About coke/pepsi/juices. Icecream. The food that my mother used to make. In the early days I would see someone walking along on the street from where I was working while him eating something and I would imagine what the taste would be like, and I would quietly cry because I knew what it tasted like and I missed it. But I was young then. After a while you just tough up, then it doesn’t get to you. The kids were pretty tough as well but everyone was always hungry. I didn’t matter if you just had something to eat, if someone offered something, you took it and ate it. But you never ask for it. And its not because you are proud, there is no pride in poverty. You don’t ask because later on he might ask from you and then you wont want to share. After a while you can tell from the eyes who is hungry and who isn’t. The eyes can tell.
So now I try and help anyone I can, because I never want to go back to it again and I would never want my kids to feel that hunger.
Sorry for the rant, I think I needed to get this out of my system.
Apr 13th 2014, 10:22 am
#48
Bored liberal
Joined: Feb 2007
Location: Over there ----->
Posts: 13,713
Re: **** the poor
That's some tale Irishbeekeeper. Sounds like something from Shantaram. It's truly horrible that some people have little option to live like that.
Poverty is relative and whilst there are people in absolute poverty and squalor of the worst kind, it doesn't make it okay for others to live in relative poverty either.
The unfairness and inequality at this level is truly depressing. Life will never be fair but the level of disparity is what is wrong. I have no real answers and doubt anyone does, at least not whilst so many people really only care about themselves to the detriment of others.
Poverty is relative and whilst there are people in absolute poverty and squalor of the worst kind, it doesn't make it okay for others to live in relative poverty either.
The unfairness and inequality at this level is truly depressing. Life will never be fair but the level of disparity is what is wrong. I have no real answers and doubt anyone does, at least not whilst so many people really only care about themselves to the detriment of others.
Apr 13th 2014, 11:41 am
#49
Lost in BE Cyberspace
Joined: Jul 2007
Posts: 13,553
Re: **** the poor
This is happiness overall.. it seems the happiest countries are also close to the highest GDP per capita. Except KSA where they have been officially mandated by the king to be happy, regardless of financial circumstances.
http://i.imgur.com/fQVm5fRl.png
http://i.imgur.com/fQVm5fRl.png
Apr 13th 2014, 12:42 pm
#50
Lost in BE Cyberspace
Joined: Aug 2009
Location: Disneyland, Dubai
Posts: 15,887
Re: **** the poor
As already mentioned above, the term is relative...BUT...isnt everything relative? Health, wealth, kindness, terrorism, a good death?
When you know that someone will come and hand you some money on a weekly basis and that most of your truly basic needs are met by the government, you might think of yourself as poor in that country, but in all honesty, and I say that with as much respect for that poor person's feelings as I can, but he hasnt seen proper poverty yet.
I can only quote from my own experiences, limited as they are but I will give you an example of the kind of poverty I am talking about.
A very very long time ago I ran away from home for a few months (ideological fool that I was and have profoundly apologized to my parents for putting them through that, since) found myself on the outskirts of Hyderabad, Sindh. Long story short, I got a bed space in a rented room full of other families, one large room with no beds or furniture etc. Only mattresses on the floor. You had to leave the mattress on the roof in the sun so the bed bugs would leave you long enough in the night so you can maybe sleep. One washroom. And lord help you if you need to go and there already is a line. You just went outside behind the house. The water was obviously not filtered, just your standard Indus River water, definitely not drinkable but you still drink it. There was a small kitchen type but no one cooked, yes no gas. So you just used the kitchen sink to wash your own plates if you brought some food back with you and ate there.
Some of them had their wives and kids with them there. So sleeping at night was an experience in itself. The kids will always be kids obviously so what can you do? You just shutup and try and get as much sleep as you can. The women had setup a curtained part of the room where they would change and all but so many people in one room with the electricity going away after every 2 hours for an hour, god the smell! No air-conditioning obviously. We had a large balcony which was airy and nice and at nights we would sit out and talk or not talk and just listen, but you couldn’t sleep there, the mosquitoes would just eat you alive. Active risk of malaria or similar diseases. Oh and if you get sick, you just don’t think about it. Because going to the local clinic means money. There was a government hospital which provided free checkups and some form of free medicine but it was only open from 9am to 2pm so you either took the day off and didn’t earn money, or you just kept your head down and worked through whatever was it that was ailing you then. The kids in the room were always sick, runny noses, coughing etc. It is NOT that the parents didn’t care, no parent can stand their kid being sick, I can guarantee you that. But what do you do if you have no money. The women had it the worst. Take care of the kids, take care of the men, take care of themselves, wash their stuff, try and keep a sense of decency and smiling through it all.
I had found a job at a construction site doing whatever they told me to do, which basically means picking heavy stuff up and carrying it upstairs. Obviously no health and safety, helmets, gloves etc. You know after a month I had hands of raw steel. I was the youngest one so I was running around all the time but there were old men and women there as well doing the same thing as me. 50s, 60s, doesnt matter, as long as you can work, the foreman wont say no. Although he was a bit soft on the women, they were allowed more breaks etc but I think he had other reasons for that.
If you get tired and sit down and he sees you sitting god forbid, you get docked half a days pay. Which was Rs. 100 (£0.98 according to those days rates) for unskilled labor for a full day, sunrise to sundown with an hour off in the afternoon. Get paid in the evening, drag yourself to the nearest local 'chappar hotel' (cheap cheap food) and have dal and roti or mixed vegetable or if you want to splurge then aloo qeema (minced meat and potatoes) but these guy buy the cheap kind of meat, you usually ended up with a rotten stomach so you try and stay away from it
Come back home and try and get a spot in the queue for a shower, wash your dirty clothes during what time you get in the washroom and hope they dry out by the next morning. Next morning you are left with just enough money in your pocket for a big breakfast from the same hotel (eat as much as possible because you have to work the whole day) and just enough money left for as much as you can buy in the afternoon lunch time. We were always thinking about food. I was always thinking about food. About fruits. About sweets. About coke/pepsi/juices. Icecream. The food that my mother used to make. In the early days I would see someone walking along on the street from where I was working while him eating something and I would imagine what the taste would be like, and I would quietly cry because I knew what it tasted like and I missed it. But I was young then. After a while you just tough up, then it doesn’t get to you. The kids were pretty tough as well but everyone was always hungry. I didn’t matter if you just had something to eat, if someone offered something, you took it and ate it. But you never ask for it. And its not because you are proud, there is no pride in poverty. You don’t ask because later on he might ask from you and then you wont want to share. After a while you can tell from the eyes who is hungry and who isn’t. The eyes can tell.
So now I try and help anyone I can, because I never want to go back to it again and I would never want my kids to feel that hunger.
Sorry for the rant, I think I needed to get this out of my system.
When you know that someone will come and hand you some money on a weekly basis and that most of your truly basic needs are met by the government, you might think of yourself as poor in that country, but in all honesty, and I say that with as much respect for that poor person's feelings as I can, but he hasnt seen proper poverty yet.
I can only quote from my own experiences, limited as they are but I will give you an example of the kind of poverty I am talking about.
A very very long time ago I ran away from home for a few months (ideological fool that I was and have profoundly apologized to my parents for putting them through that, since) found myself on the outskirts of Hyderabad, Sindh. Long story short, I got a bed space in a rented room full of other families, one large room with no beds or furniture etc. Only mattresses on the floor. You had to leave the mattress on the roof in the sun so the bed bugs would leave you long enough in the night so you can maybe sleep. One washroom. And lord help you if you need to go and there already is a line. You just went outside behind the house. The water was obviously not filtered, just your standard Indus River water, definitely not drinkable but you still drink it. There was a small kitchen type but no one cooked, yes no gas. So you just used the kitchen sink to wash your own plates if you brought some food back with you and ate there.
Some of them had their wives and kids with them there. So sleeping at night was an experience in itself. The kids will always be kids obviously so what can you do? You just shutup and try and get as much sleep as you can. The women had setup a curtained part of the room where they would change and all but so many people in one room with the electricity going away after every 2 hours for an hour, god the smell! No air-conditioning obviously. We had a large balcony which was airy and nice and at nights we would sit out and talk or not talk and just listen, but you couldn’t sleep there, the mosquitoes would just eat you alive. Active risk of malaria or similar diseases. Oh and if you get sick, you just don’t think about it. Because going to the local clinic means money. There was a government hospital which provided free checkups and some form of free medicine but it was only open from 9am to 2pm so you either took the day off and didn’t earn money, or you just kept your head down and worked through whatever was it that was ailing you then. The kids in the room were always sick, runny noses, coughing etc. It is NOT that the parents didn’t care, no parent can stand their kid being sick, I can guarantee you that. But what do you do if you have no money. The women had it the worst. Take care of the kids, take care of the men, take care of themselves, wash their stuff, try and keep a sense of decency and smiling through it all.
I had found a job at a construction site doing whatever they told me to do, which basically means picking heavy stuff up and carrying it upstairs. Obviously no health and safety, helmets, gloves etc. You know after a month I had hands of raw steel. I was the youngest one so I was running around all the time but there were old men and women there as well doing the same thing as me. 50s, 60s, doesnt matter, as long as you can work, the foreman wont say no. Although he was a bit soft on the women, they were allowed more breaks etc but I think he had other reasons for that.
If you get tired and sit down and he sees you sitting god forbid, you get docked half a days pay. Which was Rs. 100 (£0.98 according to those days rates) for unskilled labor for a full day, sunrise to sundown with an hour off in the afternoon. Get paid in the evening, drag yourself to the nearest local 'chappar hotel' (cheap cheap food) and have dal and roti or mixed vegetable or if you want to splurge then aloo qeema (minced meat and potatoes) but these guy buy the cheap kind of meat, you usually ended up with a rotten stomach so you try and stay away from it
Come back home and try and get a spot in the queue for a shower, wash your dirty clothes during what time you get in the washroom and hope they dry out by the next morning. Next morning you are left with just enough money in your pocket for a big breakfast from the same hotel (eat as much as possible because you have to work the whole day) and just enough money left for as much as you can buy in the afternoon lunch time. We were always thinking about food. I was always thinking about food. About fruits. About sweets. About coke/pepsi/juices. Icecream. The food that my mother used to make. In the early days I would see someone walking along on the street from where I was working while him eating something and I would imagine what the taste would be like, and I would quietly cry because I knew what it tasted like and I missed it. But I was young then. After a while you just tough up, then it doesn’t get to you. The kids were pretty tough as well but everyone was always hungry. I didn’t matter if you just had something to eat, if someone offered something, you took it and ate it. But you never ask for it. And its not because you are proud, there is no pride in poverty. You don’t ask because later on he might ask from you and then you wont want to share. After a while you can tell from the eyes who is hungry and who isn’t. The eyes can tell.
So now I try and help anyone I can, because I never want to go back to it again and I would never want my kids to feel that hunger.
Sorry for the rant, I think I needed to get this out of my system.
Apr 13th 2014, 1:50 pm
#52
"Insert witty title here"
Joined: Nov 2012
Location: dxb
Posts: 2,251
Re: **** the poor
ha! well it definitely was an adventure but nothing as grand as the film I am afraid, happy endings are only for movies or for some shady eastern business establishments here in do-buy 
ended with me coming back, a bit older and a bit wiser, with my tail between my legs after a few months
but I did find out who were my actual friends and who were my good times only friends you know
what they say is true by the way, only your immediate family can love you unconditionally
ended with me coming back, a bit older and a bit wiser, with my tail between my legs after a few months
but I did find out who were my actual friends and who were my good times only friends you know
what they say is true by the way, only your immediate family can love you unconditionally
Apr 13th 2014, 5:51 pm
#57
Lost in BE Cyberspace
Joined: Aug 2009
Location: Disneyland, Dubai
Posts: 15,887
Apr 13th 2014, 7:14 pm
#58
Powered by cows
Joined: Jul 2004
Location: currently Dubai, ex UK
Posts: 4,582
Re: **** the poor
This was written 20 years ago. By a claimant of social security.
http://www.theguardian.com/books/201...are?CMP=twt_gu
Sue Townsend. You might have heard of her.
Nothing much has changed since then. This article does still describe poverty.
What's changed since then? Except, perhaps, your views.
http://www.theguardian.com/books/201...are?CMP=twt_gu
Sue Townsend. You might have heard of her.
Nothing much has changed since then. This article does still describe poverty.
What's changed since then? Except, perhaps, your views.
Apr 13th 2014, 8:34 pm
#59
Lost in BE Cyberspace
Joined: Apr 2011
Location: Windscale....
Posts: 5,712
Re: **** the poor
This was written 20 years ago. By a claimant of social security.
http://www.theguardian.com/books/201...are?CMP=twt_gu
Sue Townsend. You might have heard of her.
Nothing much has changed since then. This article does still describe poverty.
What's changed since then? Except, perhaps, your views.
http://www.theguardian.com/books/201...are?CMP=twt_gu
Sue Townsend. You might have heard of her.
Nothing much has changed since then. This article does still describe poverty.
What's changed since then? Except, perhaps, your views.
Apr 14th 2014, 3:07 am
#60
Big Member
Joined: Jul 2005
Posts: 3,889
Re: **** the poor
This was written 20 years ago. By a claimant of social security.
http://www.theguardian.com/books/201...are?CMP=twt_gu
Sue Townsend. You might have heard of her.
Nothing much has changed since then. This article does still describe poverty.
What's changed since then? Except, perhaps, your views.
http://www.theguardian.com/books/201...are?CMP=twt_gu
Sue Townsend. You might have heard of her.
Nothing much has changed since then. This article does still describe poverty.
What's changed since then? Except, perhaps, your views.
"Most social problems could be helped or prevented if people had more money and practical advice."
Everyone wants more money, the bigger problem is where does it come from.