Money, Day Crew, and a Port Worker Named Max

A brief update:

I'm diving into the finance role and really enjoying it. It's emotionally tough. We hire day crew for roles such as drivers, housekeeping, galley, translators (there are 16 people groups in Sierra Leone, all with their own languages(!!)), etc. Some roles must be locals (translators or those who help us understand the culture), and many to fill the gaps in volunteer numbers.  In all of this, we pay them very well comparatively, but it's still low compared to Western standards. If we pay them too much, we completely upend the economic environment because of what we've created. And then we'll leave in 10 months, leaving the country worse than when we came. So we work to mitigate that by: 

1. Paying them above average, 
2. Giving them experience (think internship), 
3. Helping them get a certificate (such as culinary) to get a good job in town, and
4. Helping them with a savings account to have money for when the ship leaves

So I love it, but I also deal with a lot of western guilt ("why aren't we paying them more? Why don't we do more?"). However, sometimes, the questions go beyond the day crew.

Two weeks ago, a port worker who likely earns $1 a day (maybe $2 if he's amazing) moving concrete powder by hand asked me for food and money. He was pretty thin and he gave me his story of being Liberian with no family. His name is Max. I had the food in bag and money in my pocket. But once we start doing that, the ship becomes a target, leading other people to come to the ship for aid as there are hundreds of port workers. It's really hard to say no to someone when you have the means and can make a short-term difference but create long-term negative consequences.

I'm not saying the way I'm doing it is right, but it's what I did. Life is full of second guesses and second chances. 

If you want to join along in this adventure of figuring out what aid and development look like and should look like, a very helpful book that I read last spring is "When Helping Hurts" about all the nonprofits and governments who provide foreign aid or relief, but end up creating disastrous outcomes because of creating dependency instead of dignity and independence. It's not just sad examples, though. It also has encouraging stories and good principles for how we can truly help a person, not just in the short-term but in the long-term, too. I've found many of my emotions are driven by pity for a person, and that can debase a person and efface their dignity if I simply give a handout. I'm not appreciating them as a person, I don't appreciate their talents. I just give money because of a sad story. That's a no-win situation. However, a joy-filled alternative has been seeing day crew work hard, get paid, and retain or gain their own personal dignity and value as a human. People are worth more than $1 or $2 a day — they have ontological value by being made in the image of God. If we can see that, if they can see that in themselves, how much more value is a person's dignity than another person's pity and dollar?