Gainful Employment

horrid irony

I have started work at a humanitarian outfit ('the organisation') working with a certain vulnerable population ('the clients').

Two weeks have flown by. My life, summarised as below:

Week 1

First day - just because people are disadvantaged doesn't mean they all have to be salt of the earth types. They have prejudices and vices just like everyone else. Case in point being blunt request made by client "Can we see a white woman, you know with fair skin".

Second day - meeting more clients and clutching heart in horror at stories, repeating stories to other staff, who all have compassion fatigue evident through their opinion that most clients are liars and opportunists who deserve their lot in life.

Third day - faith restored by staff meeting. It is a loving family that cares for people everyone else pisses upon. Even the seemingly heartless ones contribute movingly - realise that rough exterior not an indication of dedication and commitment to clients.

Fourth day - i complained about a shitty lunch i prepared for myself (oats and anchovies) until i saw a client who (brace yourself)....

lives in a jungle on plastic sheets

just witnessed his friend being murdered with slashes on his face

has no job no place to stay no food

gets mugged and beaten up periodically by thugs

was scrounging around the roadside for empty canned/box drinks for spare drops to quench his thirst

was nauseous and throwing up the whole time i saw him because of severe hunger

I could smell the hunger on his breath it filled the whole room.

Fifth day - some of the clients, through dubious means, have procured polyphonic phones and gold ornaments. Now new aim in life is to keep up with the clients.

Week 2

First day - Met clients who had been raped. More without food.

Second day - Saw clients with handcuffs in detention. It was strange but it was this sight, over everything else, that made me cry. Freedom denied, eating handouts beside a drainhole, shouted, abused, manhandled. Awkward, shuffling movements trying hard to move like normal people. Only with shackles.

Third day - finally discover what its like to be hard nosed female activist, by watching the other remarkable women fight the blatant intimidation by bullying male authorities. "Kalau nak cakap sila respect sikit, saya bukan di sini untuk main-main". Also experienced first physical harrasment by male authority who brushed roughly against side and shouted in obvious show of fear tactics. "Encik takpayah menjerit tak tentu hala, saya ada hak di sini" - said I with determined firmness. His response? "Engkau ni sapa ha? Who the hell are you?"

Your worst nightmare. Well at least i hope so. If my legs can stop shaking.

Fourth day - made my first court appearance in 6 years. met old friends and people whom i never thought i would meet again. was so happy.

Fifth day - counseled a man on a life changing decision watching him in agony wrestling pleading for advise wrestling wrestling confused desperate agony agony. He made his decision and i left. i wondered if he made the right one or if he would spend the rest of his life regretting the minutes we spent together.

Till week 3.