Friday, July 13, 2012

The Same



A dog
sits by a gate
too weak
but to lift up
its head.

It is a breed
in a breedless place,
a mutt
by lack of
formal care.

A dog
who lives out of doors
canvassing the side of the road
slowly bobbing its head
up and down
looking for something to eat.

A few metres away
a child cries
and is inconsolable
but when it sees the dog
laughs.

The tiny creature giggles
in delight
at a beast which does
but what some day
this human thing
will strive to do as well.

A dog.
a child,
sit outside a gate

waiting
to become

the same.



Author's Note: This was one of those incredibly hard poems to publish here. In many ways, this poem deals with an emotion I have dealt with since arriving here in Kenya, yet in other ways, it seems unfair on a whole. Not everyone here struggles to survive, but a good deal do, and for those who do, words cannot entirely express how difficult it is for them, or how difficult it is in turn for Morgan and I to walk by them, to pass them in the streets without much of a thought or glance. It has become so commonplace for us to see scenes like this but in the first few weeks I was here I had a hard time with these types of scenes for two reasons. The first of course most immediate shock to me and concern was the welfare of the dog. Those of you who know me well know I am not big fan of dogs but to see them in this kind of condition on a daily basis, out-of-doors and homeless, searching constantly for survival, was painful. Secondly, to see children, especially so young, sitting in similar conditions to the dog (only really something I could fully appreciate much later in the trip, even though humans should be able to communicate better than the dog could, for a vet student, or animal lover, the animal's needs are more apparent upon first glance), was even harder to come to terms with. As animals ourselves, we as humans have similar demands as the dog to live well but in this country, few obtain much beyond these basic requirements for life. That is not to say that their lives are worse, or painful in themselves, but it is plain that survival is the goal for many people here, not something we as North Americans would consider "success". When I saw this scene, upon arriving at one of our farms and waiting for them to open the gate, I almost instantly wrote this, without even a thought. I got the camera out quick to catch it, but as is often the case here, I was a second too late and instead caught both subjects in a shocked expression. Maybe this is best, as for me, coming to this realization, that soon the child would have to fend for itself much as the dog does, or make do with scraps and scrapes, have to fight for the rest, was a bit of a shock. Weeks later, looking at the photo, I find it fitting. Sometimes experiences like this are best left with little explaination, so I will keep my text brief.

Enjoy

Jen

1 comment:

Annemarie Baur said...

Jen, I appreciate your thougtful comments and especially your poems about your work experience.
Thanks,
Annemarie