I've been thinking a lot about poverty and abundance these last 9 months. Some of it has been from witnessing the very hard lives people live in Morocco and Mali. But a lot of what I've learned and thought about has come from conversations with Hassan, getting an inside picture of his life as well as his family's and friend's lives.Since he has asked expectantly several times if I'm going to write about him in my “book,” I don't think he'll mind me sharing some of these discussions on my blog. He's very passionate about what I have called his 'mentality of abundance' so I think he'll be happy I'm sharing it.
Our lives have been very different, and it's a bit of a stretch to make a comparison, but in both our cultures, neither one of us has ever felt like we had much money. For my culture, I've never made great money working in music and for his culture, although there were times he did well in the past, these days working as a wood worker/carpenter by day and an occasional gig musician at night sometimes barely gets him by.
But what really hit me recently like a ton of bricks (though it was obvious), is when he commented that he doesn't have a 'bank card' or a credit card; when there's no money in his pocket, there's just no money. If he needs to eat and doesn't have the money, he either has to find friends or family to help him out or he buys food on a tab from a local shop owner who knows him.
One thing I noticed about this is that among the poor, there is no shame in needing to ask for help here. So many people have little to no money- it's more the norm than not- that needing financial help is not looked down upon as it is in the West. If adults live with their elderly parents to help make ends meet (sometimes that is the only way), there's no shame in it. In fact, it is often a free choice so that the family can be together and support each other emotionally as well. If people need to beg for enough money to eat that day, that too is not generally looked down upon. I have often watched acquaintances of Hassan's come up and ask him for money.
I have noted with interest that I would not be able to ask for financial help in this way in my culture the way he does here. Even begging for money on the street in the US involves very different dynamics and cultural stigma. To be poor in the US often comes with shame- that you have somehow failed, haven't tried hard enough or are just plain lazy.
In our culture, because wealth is so common, the poor are rarely looked after, sometimes barely tolerated. Here, because wealth is not common and poverty is, although there aren't necessarily systems in place to help the poor, the culture (at least the people, if not the government) are more open and compassionate with the poor. It seems like everyone just realizes that this is the reality of life: it's hard.
Now, granted that's a little bit of a generalization because I have heard of people here who DO have money looking down on those who are still struggling. I've heard a lot about corruption when people in power get their hands on money, too. This is also what fuels police corrpution like bribes- the economic system is partly to blame.
Hassan did recount a story on how a rich girl from Jordan kept pitying him for his not having money and he got really frustrated with her and insisted, “'I'm not poor. I have a vision, I have intelligence, I have health, I have strength and I have energy. A 'poor' person is someone without those things- with no vision anymore, with no strength, with no energy or health.” For him, it wasn't a question of money or not. Money would come, money would go.
But in general, I get the sense that not having money here is "just life" so it's not something interpreted as a personal failure or lack of intelligence or many related prejudices I've noticed in the West.
In this culture, if someone in the family has money, it's expected that they will help the rest of the family. Everyone leans on each other in this way- it's definitely not the 'each man for himself' mentality. For example, even when Hassan has very little money, he still gives alms to the poor when they ask. Even if he hasn't received what he expected in his “pay check” he still gives a portion to his sisters.
When we've talked about this, his mantra is always, “I don't have, but I have."
He has elaborated on this by explaining, "All I have asked of God is that I can live in balance: I don't ask for a lot of money, all I want is just to avoid poverty.” Just as long as he can eat, keep a roof over his head and occasionally buy some beer, cigarettes, or do something fun for himself, that's all he needs to be content.
He tells me that he trusts that things will always balance out. He says God has always provided; there are days when he doesn't have one dirham (equivalent to 15 cents) in his pocket and then something will come his way that will put maybe a couple hundred dirham (20 dollars or so) in his pocket that night. When this happens, instead of hoarding the money, he says he chooses to eat well and celebrate, enjoying the “baraka”/blessing and trusting that life will provide again.
This has all been a great learning experience for me. I'm someone who has always worried about money. Because I've never made great money relative to my own culture, I've always been preoccupied with saving and hoarding. When I go out to a restaurant, I habitually look for the cheapest thing on the menu, not what I really want to eat. Only because I scrimped and saved for 7 years was I able to pull off this trip.
So unlike Hassan, if I suddenly got a bonus that I wasn't expecting, I probably wouldn't go out and celebrate with an expensive meal, trusting that life would always provide whether I had bonuses or not. Instead, I'd be more likely to cache it away with a mentality of, “I need to save this in case I really need it one day.”
Even here, in Morocco, where by comparison I am rich, I still choose to live as cheaply as I comfortably can, opting to eat at local cafes or cook for myself, walk instead of take taxis, etc.. This is partly to make the money last as long as possible and partly because it would feel wrong to live extravagantly among people who live humbly. I figure, if they can get by on eating lentils every day (a bowl which costs 75 cents), why shouldn't I also live humbly? While this makes sense in one way, I still recognize that there is a mentality of poverty in my thinking: this drive to make every penny count.
Now, I don't necessarily think that it's is a bad thing that I do this. But I just marvel at how he, someone who has never had much money in his life, seems to be so much more at ease and has so much more trust about his needs being taken care of than I do. I mean, after all, I've never been so bad off that I didn't have money for food and had to buy it on credit.
It's also kind of painfully ironic that while I'm comparably rich here, I often choose to eat more cheaply than Hassan. For example, almost every day, I have my 75 cent bowl of lentils for lunch. One time Hassan commented that he only eats lentils when he has no money. If there's money, he'll go out and buy ingredients for a big tajine and eat well.
“I don't have, but I have.”
Somehow although he rarely has a surplus, his needs are somehow met- through other people, through luck, through unexpected events. He expects this, he trusts this. This is his mentality of abundance, despite never knowing exactly when or where money will come from.
So I'm trying to hold all of this together and remember this as I find myself wondering again how I will make ends meet back home when I arrive unemployed with a mortgage to pay. I am trying to think of Hassan's mantra and trusting that life will unfold, that life will provide.
