Dramatizing poverty
WEEKS AGO, I experienced this one kind of bash that when I remember it I got the sensation of being hit on the back of the head with a rubber hummer. No kidding.
So, weeks ago, while I was having a bowl of ramen at Sushi Tei, Anita, my friend who not so strangely has the same name as mine — given the fact that our name is so popular and cheap, pinged me [for God's sake, she loves to ping, btw].
She stormed out through her messages: “Nit [that's how she calls me], I felt so sad. I just queued in a mini-market with an old man. He bought a plastic of instant noodle. He handed Rp 1,500 [15 cent] to the cashier before carefully putting the Rp 200 change into his old wallet. Only after we were outside that I noticed that he was limping, carried an old torn bag. He probably was going to cook the noodle for dinner.”
You probably have noticed that sometimes I sound like a wrathful utopist when it comes to poverty. Of course, it is so unfair to keep growing gaps, letting the poor getting poorer.
What is a bowl of ramen in Sushi Tei for you? It’s probably just another dinner, no? I remembered I ordered the cheapest ramen because I’ve just had my “dinner” at the office [so yes, I was like having two]. The ramen cost me Rp 40,000+ or about $4. What is a 4 dollar for you?
Let’s face the fact, at the very same time while you were having your cheapest $4 ramen, Anita, someone out there was having a bowl of 15 cent instant noodle. Weren’t you feeling like crying?
