From the Sahara to White Water

I am privileged.

I am probably the least wealthy person in my social circle, but I am wealthy beyond measure.

I have enough food to eat, safe drinking water, a roof over my head. I have abundant clothing, a car to drive.

I have the brains and the working body to make sure this continues.

I live in a society, in a country, that encourages me to live the life of my dreams, to work at something I love, and to change any of the parts of my life that I don't like.

I am privileged.

I spent six weeks this summer living in a society where things were different. Even though I was privileged enough to live with a nice, middle class family, I could look around me and realize that some important things were not the same.

I drank bottled water all the time I was in Tunisia, trying to avoid tummy troubles (unsuccessfully, but that's another story). My Tunisian family drinks rainwater. They have a big cistern to capture what little rain falls. And if they run out of rain water, they drink bottled water too. The city's water pipes are full of lead.

Bread is cheap there. I think it is subsidized by the government. Everyone buys a fresh loaf of bread every day. But cars are incredibly expensive, since they all were imported. Gasoline is expensive too. (They call it petrol. Fuel for cars is petrol, gas means natural gas.) The first oil deposits ever found in Tunisia were found earlier this year. They never have had the oil industry that both Algeria and Libya have (they had never discovered oil there before, although they have looked for a long time), so fuel has always been expensive there. In fact, so expensive that people smuggle it in from Libya and sell it around the neighborhood. Even though I complain about fuel costs here, it doesn't eat up the percentage of my income that it would if I were making a Tunisian salary.

And here in the U.S., I am able to go back to school and develop new skills (or work on ones that I already have). I am able to change and adapt as I care to. In Tunisia, they aren't able to do that. The opportunities just aren't there. I met a woman--an electrical engineer--who had been looking for a job for six years. Crazy. And sad.

And then, this past weekend, I went white water rafting. I realized how amazing that I went from spending the weekend in the Sahara Desert to being immersed in gallons upon gallons of water all in one summer. I realized how privileged that makes me.

And, of course, it filled me with all sorts of sensory experiences that I can use in my writing. It sparked so many story ideas. What an amazing weekend.

How privileged am I?