READERS REPORT (17) YOU DON'T KNOW HOW LUCKY YOU ARE IN NZ

READER REPORT:

You don't know how lucky you are in NZ

GERARD O'NEIL  14/08/2014      www.stuff.co.nz 

One of the things that distressed me when I first moved to Brazil was the poverty.

Initially I believed that as someone from the first world - rich New Zealand - I had an obligation to help the poor and so when someone asked for money, I would give them a few coins. After all, who was I to deny the poor the money to buy a slice of bread?

Looking back, I can see how ignorant I was. My acts of charity made no difference to the poor; in fact, the only one who benefited was I, via the feel good feeling that comes from giving.

After a time, I began to realise that poverty in Brazil comes in many shapes and forms. There are even those for whom poverty is a profession.

For the last 20 years, I have walked past the same shop in front of which sits a woman holding a baby of between 5 and 14 months. She spends her day asking for money to feed her child. The only thing is that every few months the child changes and I have never seen the woman pregnant.

RECYCLING RUBBISH: During the night this

man will walk many kilometres and earn

just over NZ$5 for his efforts.

Then there is the man who frequently boards my bus. He holds up a photo of his four-year-old son and explains how the only way to sustain his son is by begging - e cannot work as he has an incurable terminal disease. The story and the photo have been the same for many years.

Then there is the person whose only profession is to push the stop button on a pedestrian crossing on a busy avenue. Once the traffic has stopped, he asks motorists for money.

Even though the people I have mentioned above are poor, they live a lifestyle that they could change if they wanted to. They have choices. So does the man who approached me while I was talking to my nephew in Portuguese, on Queen Street, in Auckland during my last visit to New Zealand.

"Giday mate," he said. "Can you give me $5?"

I refused his request, but he simply turned to the Japanese tourists beside us. They gave him the $5 he requested. During the next 20 minutes, I watched him working the tourists along Queens Street.

For most Brazilians, poverty is a grinding reality. No choice is involved.

The bulk of the poor in Brazil are normal people who live in the vast favelas. Most of these people have jobs but do not earn sufficient to have what we would consider in New Zealand, a middle class existence.

It is estimated that 108 million Brazilians (total population 203 million) earn between R$300 and R$1,120 (NZ$160 and NZ$590) per month. People complain about the cost of living in New Zealand but the cost of living here is similar.
Compounding the situation is the fact that despite having one of the world's highest tax rates the government provides little assistance. Few are eligible for unemployment or sickness benefits or low rent government housing.

The result of the almost complete abandonment by the state is that the poor are responsible for themselves and  tend to help their neighbours in need as well. You hear little complaining about how badly off someone is as one only needs to look over the fence to see someone worse off.

One day, I was walking near my home when I began to follow a rubbish recycler's cart pulled by a girl of around 10 years old. Walking beside her was her brother of perhaps 6. Both children were malnourished.

As I watched, the little boy stopped and with a shout of joy picked up a half rotten lettuce leaf and offered it to his sister. With a look of compassion, she refused his offer. Smiling with happiness the little boy put the whole leaf in his mouth and began to eat it.

A few hours later, I was winging my way to New Zealand where my father picked me up at the airport. When I went to put my suitcases in the car there were two large boxes full of groceries there. My father asked if it was ok if we made a detour on the way home, as he wanted to deliver the boxes to a poor couple who had requested help from the food bank where my father worked as a volunteer.

When we arrived in the state housing area, which would be considered an upper middle class residential area in Brazil, we were invited by the  couple to carry their groceries into the kitchen. I was struck by how cluttered their house was with the necessities of life. In the garage was an older model car and I could not help but notice the crates and crates of empty beer bottles piled up there.

The moment we put the boxes on the table the woman began rummaging through them. Pulling out a coffee jar, she passed comment that it was not the brand of coffee they liked. After digging deeper, she stopped and turning angrily to my father said: "Where are the chocolate biscuits? Last time you brought chocolate biscuits"!

New Zealanders should be proud of the egalitarian society they have created but perhaps a little less complaining would be in order.

New Zealand is a very rich country, where almost everyone has a very high standard of living in comparison to the way most of the rest of humanity lives. The fact of the matter is New Zealand has few (if any) real poor.

TO PRINT