Monday, September 17, 2007

Begging Monopoly

Begging. I don’t like begging. I used to give money to beggars. Now, only under a very extreme circumstance will I give a beggar anything at all and in those cases, only food. It’s not that I am unsympathetic, it’s just that I can not tolerate the idea that a stranger who is completely uninterested and unwilling to do anything for me expects me – often demands of me – to fork over my own cash. I just don’t work that way.

Back in the 1980’s when I was living in Brooklyn, there was a beggar at one of the subway stations in my neighborhood. Each day I would see him sitting in the passageway mumbling to himself with his hands outstretched. On occasion, early on, I would drop a few coins in his hands. Then, one day, I realized that I had been passing this same person in the same place wanting the same thing for a very long time. I thought about it. I had had over a dozen jobs over 8 years, moved house five times, put myself through school, bought a car, wrecked the car, sold the wreckage, got married, went from wearing $80 suits to wearing $800 suits… why on earth did I give this man money? His “job” was to profile those people who have money and expect them to hand over their cash, assuring them he had no intention of doing anything other than living off their wages.

Now, granted, this is not a simple subject. The man clearly had some mental problems and Mayor Koch had flushed New York City’s mental hospital funding so the man was at a huge disadvantage (Koch later funded an effort to involuntarily remove the mentally ill from NYC streets). Once the markings of disenfranchisement manifested; soiled clothes, unbathed body, tangled hair, unwashed teeth, deprivation of medication, getting any form of employment was much more difficult. The momentum grew in his terrible plight. However, I firmly believe the number one reason why this man was (and still is as of 2005) begging, is because he makes money doing it. Lots of money.

I know another man in Vancouver, Canada. He is a crack addict. He gets funding from the British Columbia government to pay for housing and food. He uses 100% of his begging income for drugs and alcohol. I’m not making this up – I’ve had plenty of conversations with him. Each night you can find him outside the 7-Eleven on 10th and Alma asking people for money and cigarettes (retail value of one cigarette in BC is about $0.50CDN). Does he have any intention of stopping drugs or stopping begging? Absolutely not. He likes crack. And the 7-Eleven customers have no problem paying for it.

Why am I talking about this today? It is something that I have been paying attention to here in Laos for over a year. A year ago I noticed only a few beggars on the streets of the central tourism area of Vientiane. Today, I see a dramatic growth. A more official counting by Peuan Mit/Friends-International in October 2004 counted 209 street children in one day. Whatever the actual numbers may be, I am confident in my observation that there is a very real growth surge in the begging industry in Laos.

One of the most notable and prominent beggars in Vientiane, Akiki, sits outside Joma Bakery (the most expensive coffee shop in the city) or next door at the Phimphone Market (one of the most successful retail businesses in the city). He’s a nice enough guy and is respectful to his “customers”. To be fair, I should mention that Akiki has Downs Syndrome. And, granted, it is hard enough for a skilled, healthy, young man to find work in Laos, let alone a person who is mentally or physically challenged. However, there is no way Akiki is going to change his profession. Why? Money. Lot’s of it.

Consider the average monthly wage for a government worker in Laos is 350,000kip/month (about $35USD). One afternoon, I watched how much Akiki earned in 3 hours: 150,000kip. I’ve seen him make less, but certainly those numbers are not unusual. I have even had discussions with others who, like me, have seen him using his ATM card. An ATM card!!!

The other day, right after I posted my last entry, “Coopetition”, I saw Akiki do something which inspired me to write this entry. It was a thought of competition. I was sitting outside the Joma Café when three other street children had approached me for money. I told them no. They were about to approach the other table sitting outside when Akiki jumped up from his spot next door, blew his police whistle, and chased the 3 others away. It seems that not only does Akiki make a Laos fortune at his job, but he maintains a monopoly on his place of business (he does share it with one physically handicapped boy, on occasion).

Is Akiki, or the other alleged 208 beggars in Vientiane to blame for this? No, not really. He may have a monopoly on those two storefronts, but there are plenty of other places to beg. It’s not really the location, it’s those people who fund the industry who are most at fault. And the people who are funding this operation are the tourists – tourists with wonderfully benevolent intentions.

Some people give money to ease their conscience. Others, out of pity. Still, others, really believe they are helping someone. Whatever the reason, at the core of the issue, it is ignorance the fuels the begging industry. People who give money to beggars are ignorant of the problems they are causing – giving money to beggars causes much more damage than relief. Do people really think that beggars don’t talk to each other? Of course they do. And they know exactly how much they can earn and from who they can earn it (maybe, tomorrow, I will elaborate on that one).

Furthermore, behind the scenes of this industry is a much more insidious menace at work. It is often organized crime, the mafia or a mafia, orchestrating the begging circuit. If the cartel came to you safe suburban door and asked for money, exactly how much would you give… to ease your conscience?

Maybe I am opening myself up to a lot of criticism, but it is important to spread the word. Under no circumstances should anyone respond to begging with anything other than a polite ‘NO’. If you feel you must give a portion of your income to the needy, do so in a proper way. Here’s one example: $50 = One below the knee prosthesis - COPE Laos. Using PayPal, about 7% of your $50 donation is NOT used towards helping someone in need; the rest goes directly towards the recipient’s care.

In the time it took me to write this (which included a number of delays and stopping for lunch), I was approached seven times by different beggars. In the same time, I did not see one single Laos national approached for money. It is clear that tourists are targets but it is not only because of the apparently enormous cash roll they are carrying, but also because they do not understand what they are financing: a highly competitive, dangerous, and self-esteem destroying, unnecessary way of life.

Never stand begging for that which you have the power to earn
– Cervantes

1 comment:

Anonymous said...

Though I consider myself a sap for other people's troubles, I am a reformed giver. I've seen one too many examples of the organized beggar's networks, and more importantly, have come to believe that each person's soul has chosen this life on some level. It is not my responsibility to interrupt that process or save anyone from themselves. On rare occasions if I encounter someone who looks truly hungry and I am driving by with food in my car (rare!) I will share some.

But I was so sad to see mothers on the street in Bali looking drug-deranged with a baby on the hip begging. They did not exist 10 years ago (in my experience) and I can only think that guilty-feeling Westerners helped to create them.

As you said, there are many ways to give and share our blessings and help the people who are looking for help by helping themselves. Beggars have every right to their profession (manipulators and all) but I have no obligation to do business with them.