Por favor

I grew up in Lake Orion, Michigan. While my high school was large–I graduated with 600 students–Lake Orion still isn’t a place that I feel confident classifying as a city. A suburb of Detroit founded as a vacation area (because of the lake), it was a pretty peaceful place to grow up. The common complaint during high school was that there is nothing to do there. Living in Lake Orion, I had a car at my disposal from my 16th birthday on, I knew at least half of the people who came into the grocery store where I worked, and I lived in a house on the lake, minutes away from all of my grandparents. For college, I moved an hour away to the small city of Ypsilanti. While more city-like than Lake Orion, its small size and friendly people ensured that it wasn’t too overwhelming for me.

All of this being said, living in a big city (and people keep reminding me that Sevilla isn’t that large) is really different for me. I miss houses (instead of apartment buildings). I miss my car–taxis kinda freak me out. I miss the 10 minute drive to get to the store or to church. Here, driving is only for the brave. Everyone else walks or rides a bike. School is about a 35 minute walk for me (uphill both ways 😉), which is a big change from the ten minute drive in high school or the three and a half minute walk at my University.

Out of all of this, perhaps the biggest, most jarring change for me is the people who ask me for money as I am walking down the street. My professor at school here says that the unemployment rate in Andalusia (where I am) is higher than the already high rate in the rest of Spain. And, from the number of people asking for spare change, I don’t find this too hard to believe. I, in my 19 year old brain, feel that another indicator of high rates of unemployment in the area is the prevalence of mentally ill and/or physically disabled people with seemingly nowhere to go. It seems to me that when times are tight, family members who would otherwise care for their disabled family just can’t do it, and then they end up on the street. It fills me with sadness and a little bit of shame when I am asked, multiple times a day, for food or money, and I say no.

Yesterday, I went on a trip to the historically precious city of Córdoba, famous for its ancient Mosque-turned-Cathedral and its Synagogue. In the beginning of the day, as we entered the Cathedral, an old woman sat on the stone steps of the building. It really is a shame, that with all of the trouble I’ve had understanding the different accents in this country, I was able to easily understand her harsh voice as she cried something along the lines of “Pretty girl, so beautiful, I need money please, please, I need to eat”. Her cries didn’t stop as I slowly filed by in line with the rest of the group. As we entered God’s house, I thought to myself about what I had (not) done. The Bible tells us to give the shirt off of our back if someone asks for it, and I know that at some point, I have looked into the eyes of someone who legitimately needed my help and I have passed them by, losing the opportunity that they present to share love and kindness and make a positive change on the world. But, as the voices of the adults who have tried to prepare me for this trip echo in my head, I firmly believe that I have more often looked into the eyes of someone who is trying to con the blond hair blue eyed Americana out of a little bit of money. But which is better: to give a bit of change to everyone who asks, opening myself up to the danger of theft, or to say no to everyone, shunning the person who really needs the help? I don’t know the answer.

There are other people that I have seen who evoke so much pity that I really hope with all of my heart that it is an act. Yesterday: a girl not much older than myself carrying an infant in her arms. Daily, on the road to school: a man with no legs slumped over in a wheel chair. At the cafe near my school: a man with a small puppy that he holds out for you to pet, then says they haven’t eaten in days. The murmured repetition of “por favor” has a way of following you down the street.

On one of my first days in Sevilla, there was an orientation presentation with the director of my program and she said something along the lines of “Studying abroad doesn’t have to be the best time of your life. There are going to be things you don’t like.” and then she went on to talk about how much we are going to learn here. I think I better understand what she was talking about now. I never would have gotten these experiences in Lake Orion or Ypsilanti, and I didn’t know that I was going to get those experiences here–they weren’t included in the pictures in the Study Abroad Catalog. All in all, I guess these are important things for me to see. I’m learning more and more about how the world works, and that was the point of this trip all along.