As we watched the film Life and Debt in class, I had about a hundred different sentiments running through my veins. I felt guilty for being a United States citizen. I felt compassion for the people who were in need. I felt frustrated about the whole situation. I felt helpless to do anything to improve. I felt angry that the big guy always picks on the little guy. I felt the pain of the exploitation of Jamaica’s people. I felt distain for major corporations. I even felt distain for cheap food. I felt sick to my stomach to hear the extent of monetary debt that has been accrued. I felt sicker knowing that with the exception of a miraculous act of debt forgiveness, recovering from their current situation is beyond impossible. I physically felt that movie. My body tensed up; my breaths grew shallower and labored; my appetite fled (and that’s saying something, because this class is right at dinnertime!); my heart started pounding as my mind raced to come up with any sort of viable solution.

There is a country which has lost all hope, yet still tries. This is a country where the people are literally running out of options. This is a country where fresh milk is poured on the ground, because it is too expensive to produce and therefore retail prices cannot compete with foreign milk. This is an island that holds a nation of people who are desperate for change. Simultaneously with all of the aforementioned, this is a rich man’s paradise and vacation home. The sick feeling in my stomach worsened; even now as I type about it I feel a little queasy.

To watch the amount of money being wasted by foreign tourists is despicable. The majority of tourism consists of Western Europeans and people from the United States. From Europe, a plane ticket is at best $1,000 USD. One of the average salaries of a girl working in what was basically a sweatshop was something like $30 every two weeks. A single plane ticket is a year and some odd months’ salary for this person. It is enough to make you consider voluntarily living on the streets simply based on the principle that if you send a large percentage of the money you make – even for only a couple of months – the impact it could have on one person’s life is astounding.

I wish that people would listen to other people when there is a problem. Even if this problem doesn’t concern that person directly, I would expect the decent common courtesy of being given the time of day to, at the very least, present my scenario and perhaps even argue my case. Granted, these things take time, but I feel that if ANYONE ANYWHERE were to be given a true, valid opportunity to make a difference for the better in the world today, it would be not only worth the time spent, but would probably fall more closely in line with something priceless. Priceless as the smile on the face of a child instead of a hungry stare, in a country that we, in U.S. culture, widely believe to be one full of joy, happiness, contentment, and bounty. If only the media showed the true stories…. If only.