On dirty children

When we go to third world countries and see children with unwiped noses and ripped clothes covered in mud, we think they’re really poor—maybe even hungry or homeless. But that’s not necessarily the case.



When I moved to my new house, I met some of the neighbors- a filthy little boy, and a little girl in green sweatpants with multiple holes in them and barely-functional mud-drenched sandals. (They’re not pictured here, though I’ll try to get a shot of them.) Within a day or two, both of the little urchins had been bathed and changed into much better-looking clothes (which the girl wasn’t happy about- she preferred the sweatpants.)



The idea is that if you were camping with your kids, how would you dress them? Not in their best clothes, and you probably wouldn’t care all that much if they got a little dirty. Well, Guatemalan houses are kind of like camping. The bathrooms have toilets in them, but they aren’t connected to water- you pour a bucket of water in them to flush them. And bathrooms aren’t in the house, they’re little concrete boxes outside. Lwin’s parents’ house has 2 out of 3 rooms with dirt floors. Cooking is done with firewood. Water is scooped from a collection bin rather than emerging magically from a faucet. There is no heating or insulation.



And most importantly, things aren’t paved, and we’re in the rainy season. That means that even a fastidious adult can’t leave the house without getting a little muddy, and then you take a five-year-old child and let him go unsupervised into the muddy world (yes, the children here are definitely free-range). The impact of pavement on general cleanliness cannot be overestimated.



So, those filthy children you see aren’t necessarily neglected (though I suppose some are.) They’re probably just going over to the next relative’s house, where they’ll be played with, fed bits of whatever everyone else is eating, and let back outside to wander uncleaned.