benparsons.com

i read a few interesting/thought provoking articles on BBC this morning i thought i’d share some thoughts on, but before i begin i’d like to remind you that my left ring finger is doing the typing for my left middle finger, so this MUST be important to your life. please consider making BBC your browser startup page. it will keep you more in touch with the rest of the world.

over all, huge life-changing stories are the ones that really intrigue me. last night i was watching a game show, and one guy won a million dollars and a car and some bikinis. i wondered what it was like for him. he seemed pretty happy. i wonder what it was like for Rembrandt to make his first commercial sale, and for a slave in Georgia to find he has just been freed. that’s what this post is about. stories like those.

for starters, THIS STORY about a floating hospital boat in Bangladesh. FYI, Bangladesh should be pronounced “bong-la-desh” (yes, beavis, i said “bong”) not “bang-la-desh”, as the latter pronunciation means “people of the frogs” in their language. i’m not kidding. on to the article…
this barge pulls up, and there are surgeons on there doing utterly life-changing surgeries for some of the poorest people on earth. imagine, if you will, that you are that 7 year old girl…
you live on a small piece of river delta sand in a hut. you have no power, plumbing, or clean water. your family often has to move because when there is a flood, the small “island” you live on washes away, and you have to find a new one. oh- also, YOU ARE BLIND. you have cataracts in both eyes. one day some people float by on a raft and yell that your family should take you down south to find this floating hospital boat that’s here for a short time. they do free surgeries. your family freaks out. they pick the pot of rice off the fire, throw it in a thin old plastic shopping bag, pick you up and roll out. you don’t really know how you get there, being blind, but a few hours later there’s a guy asking you if you can see. you shake your head, thinking “uh, no. i’m blind, and what that means is, i can’t see.” they put you in a line with a bunch of others, and put masking tape on both eyebrows to indicate that both your eyes are screwed up. all this time, your impression of the boat is: i hear languages i cant understand, it’s kind of tippy, but we’re still on water because i can hear the waves lapping on the sides of the hull, and i’m pretty sure there’s a chicken on board, because i smell a chicken and i think it brushed by my leg. which makes me think two thoughts 1. chicken is delicious. i had some at a wedding last year. 2. why is the chicken on the boat? is it blind too? a blind chicken- that would be funny. i’m smiling.
now somebody leads you in to a room where you get shots in both eyes, only they don’t really warn you, so it’s pretty damn scary. you don’t say a word though, because who knows- maybe this will work and you’ll be able to see. you’ve heard that’s pretty great.
now they lay you down on a table and something happens that you can’t feel because your eyes are now numb. a few minutes later they sit you up, wrap a bandage round your head, and lead you off the boat to a tent with a cot.
you lay down and feel the temperature drop indicating night time. you sleep a worried hopeful sleep. mom is just outside the tent, and you can hear her walk over to check on you often. sometimes she sings your name in that quiet way.
in the morning there is more talking you cant understand, and somebody is taking the bandages off.
your scratchy eyelids open and painful morning sunlight burns in to the back of your head. you see shapes, colors, forms. you see water, dad?, and that chicken from yesterday. only now it’s cooked. dad (you can tell by the voice) is giving some cooked chicken to the nurses and smiling. mom is crying. you are seeing.
time to go home.

moving along, check THIS ONE out. this time you’re a british lady. middle class, hard working, it rains a lot. You have a good sense of humor, are a bit overweight, and sometimes imagine singing in front of a large audience. it’s dusk, and you hear your husband running (running?!) up the steps. he blows the door open, and stops. “luv” he says “i am not kidding at all…” and then he stops. “what?” you ask, just knowing that something either very bad or very good has just happened. “we’re going to the betting shop in Thirsk.”
“wow” you reply, “that IS exciting dear” rolling your eyes in that kidding way. but you can tell that he’s truly ecstatic about something and wants to surprise you, so you go along to the car, down the street over to Thirsk.

“do you want me to come in, or stay dear?” you ask as he pulls in to a parking spot on the street.
he gives you an incredulous look, and you start to wonder just what is in store, so you hop out, determined to join in the fun, whatever it is.

“Hello, I’m ______, and i’m here to collect my winnings” he whispers to the clerk, who is visibly awed just to be the one who gets to be involved. the clerk then calms himself and prints out a check “of course sir. congradulations.” is all he says.

your dear pockets the check without showing you, and then takes you back to the car and heads away (away?) from home. “we’re going out” he says, and that is all. “well our anniversary IS in just 5 weeks, so ok.” you reply dryly.

when you’ve been seated, and your man has ordered the nicest bottle of wine you’ve ever had (is that just for dramatic effect?) he pulls the check out and places it, folded in your hand. you’re afraid to open it, but you do, slowly.