Today as I'm sitting in a van, heading out of Bangkok and about to ride a bicycle to another country... and I think about how free I am. I think about how I up and quit my job, moved out of my apartment, got rid of my car, and left the country... all in the timespan of about three weeks. I think about how I had the choice to go anywhere in the world, choose my adventure, and shape my future however I pleased. That's liberating. And thats freedom. And I take that for granted.
As the van drives past the green countryside, I'm staring out the window knowing that I am free - and I will embrace and love each moment of it - but I will never understand what it means. I think about the things I have seen on this trip... the women who are mail order brides, the children who are sold into sex slavery, the men that are locked away in jails in a corrupt country.. and from a different perspective: the way poverty or disease has taken away people's freedom. Growing up in the states we are told that freedom is our birthright. We are a country that holds our fist in the air because goddamit were free. And freedom becomes second nature for us - we assume we'll always have it. In the same way I assume water will come out of the faucet every time I turn it on, or I'll have a roof over my head every time I go to sleep, or I'll have something to eat every time I'm hungry. I take these things for granted because I was born into privilege. I played sports and graduated with a 4.5 GPA in high school, went to the #1 public university in the US, worked for the largest company in the world, lived in the heart one of the great cities in the US and am about to move to another one. I have expertise in business strategy, merchandising, fitness, and cooking. I am privileged .. and I am free.
I look into the eyes of the less fortunate and I'm not one to give money to the homeless in san francisco who are coincidentally begging for change outside the liquor store... but there was something in my stomach that turned every time I saw a beggar last night in Bangkok. They weren't begging for alcohol or drug money. And I gave away all the change I had and I got choked up every time I did. Giving money to an individual beggar might help them to their next meal, but what's the larger solution? I find myself asking 'how will this be fixed?' - and in a country that is not mine, in a foreign place where I do not understand the language and I try to learn the culture, I feel powerless. It's very 'me' to figure out the solution, put together the plan, and lay out the action steps. But today I'll look out the window, and as I pass thru the poor villages on my bike trip, I have 7 days at 50km a day to think about it... and in the meantime, I'll acknowledge how lucky I am to be privileged ... and how lucky I am to be free.
Christine--you are so cool!
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