Well, I think that this assignment is a bit of a no brainer. The question asked was if I, as YIIPer am privileged.
I'm actually offended that this question was asked. How is it at all possible I am not privileged? (Or any other tourist, intern, or traveler? YIIP is for the priviledged. Not only are you in university, you get to spend your summer abroad.) In fact, the more I think about this, the more enraged I get that this question was even posed.
In what actual circumstance can anyone, actually argue (and win) that this experience is not for the privileged? What point is this assignment supposed to prove? [Does the humilty of the YIIP candidate actually matter?] You don't have to look very hard to know that I have come from a background that allows me to do such things. How can you look at the situation that I am in; compare it to the existing norms of a country and have the audacity ask if I am in the same situation as those with acute poverty?
Francis, when did you get rich?
It has nothing to do with my finances. It has everything to do with my opportunities. While my finances have allowed me to participate in this internship, I am far from well off. [I've been eating bread and cheese (or viennas) for three months straight. It's not a great meal, but it's food in my belly. (My smaller sized pants I brought with me are starting to get loose.) You see, that's it, I have food in my belly. Many of the kids I work with don't.] I have enough to survive and have enough to not have to work 3-4 jobs to maintain that.
Look at these options that I had: I've come to a foreign country. I'm working for free. I got to choosefrom a long list of countries I could go to. I get to leave and go home. I have a home. My contributions and opinion are valued. I do not get belittled for arbitrary reasons. I am not bound to this life. I get to... (you get the picture) I get to do other things than subsistence living.
Of course I am privileged. It's like asking a hungry guy if he is hungry. You may get a negative for the answer, but I'm sure it would be shrouded in sarcasm. [Or if I'm answering, it's with an overwhelming amount of what I like to describe as "indulge the idiot" (those are nicer words that I actually think) I will purposely string someone along if I believe that he / she is asking something that is obvious or is not something I like to talk about.]
Privilege is all about choice. If you get to choose, well then that is privilege.
So Francis, a menu is the ultimate privilege huh?
Yes, it is. For many of the people I have met here, there are no choices when it comes to food. You either eat or you don't. It's simple as that. If you can decide what appetizer and what dessert you're going to have after your dinner, well you have no right to say you are not priviledged.
Sure there are those who have it all and then some. Those folks are the "have mores." They can do whatever they want and then some. But it's those who work and earn just enough to have comfortable life with nothing fancy that I will described as simply not priviledged. They are poor, but they can't go away to another country to learn and further their education. Those who work and work and work more, those are under priviledged. Everyone else, well it's just a matter of how much they have.
So what does an intern do? Well for starters, shut your mouth. You'll get into a lot less trouble if you stop your whining. If things aren't as good as home, well suck it up. You choose to leave the comforts of Canada. If others feel as if you're a little spoiled brat, well maybe you should try living away from the hyper sanitized over politically correct bubble you've been in. You're different. Get it through your head. When you get home, you tell everyone about your great adventure and all the things you experienced. But you fail to realise that those people that made you feel all selfconcious and uncomfortable are still there. They're still dealing with all those "harsh and exotic" things that you love to tell everyone you survived.
Look at how pompous and arrogant we can be when we leave our wonderful life, and try to be "one of them." The fact that we try to fit in with the locals, try to be just another guy on the street well, it just doesn't work. Because you have that plane ticket home, it means you are and will always be an outsider. Until you assimilate yourself into the culture and actually make it home, you're still a traveler.
Angry much? You sound like you're hungry Francis.
I am. And let me leave you with some things that I have heard while here.
Hey black man!
What?? Hey man what's up?
How does it feel to be black?
Good, I guess...
[This was right after my colleges heard about the court decision that ethnic Chinese were considered black]
--
(As I hold my loaf of bread)
Don't tell me thats your dinner.
Yes, it is. It's also my breakfast, lunch and dinner for the next few days.
But you've got dollars!
What makes you think I actually have money?
True. You're eating bread.
--
Where's your bread?
Where it always is - my pocket.
--
My Brotha!
Yebbo baba!
Howzit?
Good, Howzit!
Goooood!
--
1: Do you understand?
2: No.
Me: Yes.
2: What?
1: It's 'cause he's black.
--
(After giving directions to a college): Shit, you even sound like a South African!
--
So I've played into the "I want to be a local" role as well. But I still know, as does everyone else, that I'm not. For me, it's a ice breaker, a coversation starter and way to reach out. It's always funny when the foreigner tries. No excuse me, I'm gonna find some bread.
Markham, Canada