The Right thing.

Finally.

I was elated to finally find a Cambodian missionary back in Singapore, excited to seek her advice, ask her for help to find out how I could help Somaly. After listening to what I had to say about Somaly's plight, she looked at me squarely and said, “I can’t help you.” I was downcast, and my tears welled up but I understood- it was not that she was ungenerous, or unwilling, but that there were just too many. Too many of these kids in the same dire situations and too little manpower to help all of them out. Time, logistics, dealings were involved and there weren't enough hands. Too many.

But I stayed and I pleaded, and then I showed you Kitesong, of what Somaly meant to me and I was almost in tears because this has gone on for far too long, and I didn't know what to do. You saw my desperation, and what I had written at the back of the book- of how Somaly had been Kitesong's inspiration to a large extent, to help children in their education, you looked at me, tired, worn and said weakly, “I’ll try my best, okay? I can’t promise, but I’ll try. I'm trying only because this means so much to you.”

I held your hands and I said, “Please try. Thank you so much.”

It’s not easy being a missionary. She was juggling many projects at the time, and had to make special efforts to visit Somaly’s home, to check that she was truly in need and not merely writing to me or other Singaporeans to fish for extra money. Weeks later, she emailed me to tell me she had visited Somaly, and though her mother was very ill, her father elderly, and she had many siblings, their family still had many cows. They would get by.

It seems cruel, doesn't it? We have so much here, and yet we take the trouble to investigate the family background of a young Cambodian girl who worries about not being able to complete her university education every day. But is the right thing to do, to just give money unconditionally?

“Why don’t you just send her money? Why go to all that trouble?”

Because it’s not about the money. I had found her a sponsor already, but it’s not about the money- it’s about doing the right thing, the right thing of giving responsibly and lovingly. As short-term voluntary mission-trippers, we see a Cambodian girl in need of money for her education and cant wait to charge forth to lavish upon them our generosity. But are we aware of the social consequences involved, the disastrous long-term mess that we leave long-term missionaries to wrap up?

Some people say we should just give. After all, what is a few hundred dollars to us? But in our impulsive and earnest compassion, do we respect the humble culture and frugal life of these people, or take it upon ourselves to exercise what we deem as more generous, more giving, imposing our cultural attitudes on a different people? We want to give, we want to give, we want to give. It is easy for us to give- but there are social consequences that we leave for other people to clear up.

Sending money is not the problem. Precipitating a social evil of villagers fishing for money from better-off social workers like us is. Breeding a culture of jealousy among them (How come that mission-tripper sent you money and not me?) is. Leaving the long-term missionary to handle all these unintended social ills is.

So that is why we go through ‘all that trouble’.

After emailing missionary after missionary, calling and approaching them, troubling them to help me get connected with her, asking them for advice as to what to do, whether sending money would be right thing to do or if it would precipitate a social evil, I was beginning to get discouraged. I received news that Somaly would be able to cope, and emails from her saying that she could not.

The right thing to do. What was the right thing to do? Term was starting, and she either needed the money or not. She was either truthful or not. I would send it to her or visit her or not. I was tempted to get on a budget airplane and take a short 3 day holiday in Phnom Pehn one weekend to get some sort of closure.

This was the girl who partially inspired Kitesong. This was the girl whose life breathed into me some sense, if any, of decent compassion for the uneducated children around the world and my basic level of gratitude for my university education. If she had to forgo her education, give up her dream of becoming a teacher, work on her farm “like my farmer parents- Wai, I don’t want to be a farmer”, how tragic it would be.

This spanned over a few months. After many, many nights of prayer, finally, an answer.

Dear Wai

I just want to tell you that I can continue my study at university in year III, but everything not getting on well, as you know I don't have enough money, maybe you want to ask me why I can go to study in year III? because my poor brother sold his motor to take money for my school fee.

my family is ok, but my mom often sick.

Somaly


She got by after all. But at what price. How much can we, should we interfere? Is it one evil over the other?

The right thing to do.