Some visions start to live a life of their own. They tag along with you without asking for permission and do not leave you in peace. Like that girl who was lying in the middle of a busy sidewalk and slept. She has travelled with me on the other side of the world for a year now. Or like those boys who were having fun in the pouring rain. Or the cute children whose job it was to hammer rocks to make ballast.
It is a good thing that we are sometimes forced to think about the basics of life and to look at things from a different angle. And to notice that our own skills and way of thinking do not necessarily work in a foreign environment.
“We respect you greatly and believe what you teach us, because you are so old and so enormously rich”. A 52-year-old Finnish civil servant is really not accustomed to hearing such a sentence. And it was even more surprising, because most of the time I felt that I was not able to teach them much anything useful.
- How to explain the dangers of chemicals when the majority does not know how to read?
- How to advise people to protect themselves against solvent vapours when the temperature in the factory hall is above 50°C?
- How to do office work when there is no electricity?
- Is using DDT a bad thing, if the alternative is that your family falls ill with malaria?
When contemplating such things the EU’s ambitious and complicated chemical regulations seem distant. Even when you know that they are a good thing. They enable the collection of basic information without which even the world’s poorest cannot protect themselves against the risks of harmful substances. It is a moral obligation of wealthy countries to take care of this basic matter.
Wealth is always relative. Although I met a lot of really poor people, measured in terms of money, most of the people I met did not seem unhappy. On the contrary, I felt that I was in a rather happy environment. The paradox made me think.
In an environment where a catastrophe always lurks around the corner, nobody believes that life cannot hurt you. There is no illusion that we could control life. And, maybe, people do not try to understand everything around them. Could it be that when you admit your own weakness and live in harmony with it, you start to live with a sense of reality – understanding the value of each moment? As well as your own value. Could we learn something from this?
With us, production, being busy and consumption easily become an end in themselves and few of us question them, especially at Christmas time. We largely live in a culture of production and consumption. Your value is often measured in how busy you are and the kind of impression you make on other people with your possessions. But I wonder if that brings out your true identity and makes you dignified? Would serenity and modesty sometimes be more valuable? At least from an environmental point of view they would.
Nepal is one of the world’s poorest countries. Homes often do not have doors. And why should they, if there is nothing to steal. As late as in the early 1950’s, there were no schools, hospitals, roads, communications, electricity or industry in the country. Now the female literacy rate is around 35 per cent, and that of males somewhat over 50 per cent. An immense difference compared to Finland which has recently reached many world top rankings in quality of life and in environmental and educational issues. Without the internal disputes Nepal would undoubtedly develop at a faster rate.
In poor countries people have to buy what is cheapest. For example, many pesticides that were prohibited in the Western countries decades ago due to their dangerousness are still used in Nepal (DDT, aldicarb, methyl parathion, etc.). The deaths of workers are common and nobody measures toxic concentrations in the environment. The tea growers, for example, were extremely worried about the situation.
After the trip I woke up to the fact that I heard a lot more complaining in Finland than in Nepal. I was severely allergic to it at first. The symptoms have now been alleviated, but I think I am now more sensitive to grumbling. And I am not too keen about TV cooking shows and low-carb diets that are all over the media these days.
I bought a mango and placed it next to the sleeping girl. I continued my way to the airport and was soon in a very different world. But what I experienced will stay with me, and if I am lucky, will put things in a healthier perspective. For example, I am not going to buy Christmas gifts this year, at least nothing material. All my friends have all the things they need – and much more.
I think that I will try to come up with a way to send more mangos to that girl in Nepal.