The poor will always be with you
Stories of our lives in the slum and other marginalized settings
Last week it rained for three days. On that third night I realized my pad was getting soaked. I thought the rain had gotten around the edges of the window, but I looked closer....and it was coming through the wall! Our room was built with secure-looking bricks, but they're just one layer deep and on …
I realized that we've shared a lot of stories the last couple months and wanted to update where various people are at right now. Alia returned home on Friday. She looks healthier with more color to her face than she did before, and her arm infection seems to have completely cleared up. But she is …
Friday, August 30th "Alia is really sick. She's been having some trouble breathing, and now she doesn't even know what's going on around her when people come in." "That's serious. You should take her to the hospital right away. How long has she been like this?" "Since last night, but only the worst since …
Four years ago I met a young girl named Alia. Alia was 13 the first time she came to our literacy lab. She was mentally disabled and had been attending a special school for the disabled for four years. Though she was not literate and in fact could only recognize a few letters, it was a …
The first time I stepped into our slum, I was struck by how the animals made it feel like a village. Goats standing outside every-other door, chickens running around the alleyways. It was a major part of the appeal. So for my series on what the slum is like, here is my photographic ode to …
(apologies for the unfinished version that posted early) People tell us not to drink the city water, though some of the poorest families around us do. We run all the water we intend to drink through a ceramic water filter, and hope that is enough to make the city water safe to drink. At least …
Continue reading Water water everywhere…who gets a drop to drink?
The electricity just went out for four hours. It wouldn't have been a problem...except the one appliance we're running in the middle of the day is the ceiling fan. That matters in August. Thank God it was only 90 degrees with manageable humidity, one of the more pleasant days we've had. But little Shakeenah struggled …
My first slum homestay was in a large, decrepit house. The entrance was split into narrow hallways by particle boards. I followed my homestay "brother" down one of the makeshift paths to the right, then left, right then two more lefts, shuffling between flimsy dividers that didn't leave enough space for my shoulders. We arrived …
I would have found out sooner if I hadn't been out all day. Turning down the alley I could see that something was up. People were out of their homes, disturbed, grouping. I started towards them but then they rushed to me instead. "Four boys! They've been missing since 3pm yesterday! It is your kids …
Most folk don't want to hear me talk about slums. I once thought that slum life would make this blog unique. The internet is saturated with almost everything, but there aren't many English-speaking slum bloggers. Maybe people wouldn't want to hear what I had to say about money, power, or nonviolence, but at least they'd …
