Stealing my sunshine

WHEN I first landed in the United States, I was this sweet young woman, full of love, joy and laughter. I had a sweet, trusting sprit and was giving a kind.

Fast forward four years later and I have changed.

Life in the West has made me more guarded. I used to instantly react to those in need. Back home, I was friends with children on the streets. They called me by name. Each time I saw them I knew they would never hassle me. When I had some cash I freely gave it to them. We treated each other with love and respect. I would talk to them. I woul buy them a present; a T-shirt here and there. When we had clothes at our house that nobody could fit in, I would give some of them to these children.

I remember a woman who was mentally challenged and had two kids. Each time I saw her, her kids were in tow. Despite her handicap she was devoted to those kids. She lived on the outskirts of the city in a plastic structure, but her children were always clean. I made it a point that each evening, as I went home from work, I would buy three loaves of bread, two for my family and one for her. The only words she ever uttered to me were, “Thank you!” Her children were always her priority, despite her challenges.

I was a softie. Everyone came to me. I loved being able to do something for someone, regardless of how small or insignificant. My friends and family teased me about being such a ‘soft’ person. I felt like I was brought into this world to bless others because I had been so blessed. I never wanted to miss the moment when someone needed me most.

I wanted to make someone under the weather smile a little. I wanted to see that smile of peoples’ faces when you say good morning to them and catch them off guard .

I guess I’m really a ‘softie’ underneath. I’m the kind of person who cries if I see anyone in pain. I believe that everyone should get some love and attention in one way or the other. I long to be the ray of sunlight when someone is in darkness.

We all go through things in life; some good and some bad. It is the small acts of kindness from total strangers that might make or break our day. I believe in little things making a bang of impact.Those small things have the power to change the world we live in.

But I have started noticing that the longer I have stayed in the West, the more guarded I have become. I have become suspicious of people. Sometimes I feel like I am losing my purpose in life.

When I first got to the United States, everyone wondered why I smiled at total strangers or why I actually asked people how they are doing. I really wanted to know if they were having a good day. I soon noticed that when I smiled at people here, they would just give me a blank stare. They were suspicious of my ‘kindness’, my concern. They looked at me like I was weird. They gave me a forced crooked smile. A smile that did not have any emotion in it.
I said, “Hello, good morning.” They ignored me. Or said a forced ‘Hello’ back. Or rudely answered, “Do you really want to know and if I tell you what will you do”.

I would see people on the streets asking for a dollar and I would give them. Each time I gave them money, they tried to get my phone number and wanted to know my name. They wanted to know if I was married. They “didn’t see a ring”. I gave food to the homeless a few times. They threw it in the trash. They told me they didn’t eat leftovers.

Sometimes it’s not the guy on the street that behaves weirdly. People I interact with daily also ‘act funny’. Each chance they get to “screw you up”, they will do just that.

I learnt quickly not to offer my time to someone who may need a little extra help. The more you help them; the more they exploit your act of kindness. A roommate once asked if her parents (who did not have a home because they had been kicked out for not paying rent), could come and stay with us for two days till they found another place. I agreed. I felt sorry for them. They could easily crash on the couch in the lounge. Afterall it was only for two days.

Before I knew it, they are using my blankets and sheets. They were using my private bathroom, my toilet paper, toothpaste, soap and towels. Their daughter had nothing in her bathroom. My groceries ran out. They ended up staying two weeks. Their daughter (my friend) was late with rent. She was saving money for her parents.

I got another roommate. He was fresh out of university. He didn’t have pots, pans or plates. I gave him mine. I told him he could use my stuff until he got his own. Big mistake!

Two months later, he was still using the pots and pans. He left dirty dishes in the kitchen sink for days with no consideration for ‘my property’. So much for trying to help out a young person get on their feet.

It seems every act of kindness that I tried to demonstrate was met with rudeness and inconsideration. People were always trying to take advantage of my kindness. Question: “Would you give someone a lift in your car if you see them walking in the rain or heat?” They might just turn out to be some psycho person we read about in the news daily. You hink to yourself, “They might kidnap me and rape me.” Worse still they could hold you captive, kill you and your body will never be found.

There are ‘nice’ people out there. I am sure. But just like the rest of us, they are also cautious and careful. They have also learnt that there are people who pry on kindness and will drain your spirit of kindness if they can. The West is such a selfish world. No one cares about their neighbor. It’s all about the singular. The individual is alienated from the rest of society.

Back home, we are taught to be kind. That we treat everyone with respect. We are told that what we do to others will come back to us. Here, the rules don’t apply.

If you are like me, you begin to feel like you are becoming a little mean and cruel, just to defend yourself and I hate that feeling.