OK, I’ve got a bone to pick with some people, so please excuse this semi-rant.

I’m a curious person and I ask a lot of questions, especially to people who I consider to have expertise on a topic. It’s the way I learn best. Most people are very receptive and eager to share their knowledge.

But have you ever noticed that some people seem to skip right over the question, trying instead to interpret the feelings or motivations which caused you to ask it? These people will respond with something dismissive like, “Oh, don’t worry about that.”

Huh?? Who said I was worried? I’m asking a question. Do you know the answer or don’t you? If so, please tell me rather than trying to interpret my underlying motivations. If you want to ASK me about my motivations after you’ve answered the question or told me that you don’t know the answer, that’s perfectly acceptable. I will welcome your inquiry.

Doctors are notorious for this type of interpretive response, and I see it in some parents when talking to their kids. It drives me nuts. If it drives you nuts too, then I encourage you to do something about it.

The next time you ask your car mechanic what that blinking light means on your dash and he tells you it’s nothing serious, just look at him and say, “Well, that’s nice to know, but you didn’t answer my question. What does that blinking light mean on my dash?”

Or if you ask your dermatologist to identify the particular type of mole you have, and he responds by saying, “It’s nothing to worry about,” feel free to politely rebut, “Well, thank you, but my question was not whether I should worry about it, but what type it is. I’m just naturally curious about these things. Had I wanted to know if I should worry, I would have asked, ‘Should I be worried about this?’”

And finally, if you’re reading this and realizing that you’re one of the people who responds to questions in this way, please stop. It’s poor communication, and in fact, quite disrespectful. Alternately, if you’re someone who asks questions in a roundabout way hoping that the respondent will properly interpret the subtext and get what you’re “really” asking, then please, consider a more direct approach. You’re just encouraging these “interpreters”, thereby making it difficult for those of us who communicate directly. Thank you.

OK, rant over.

For some reason, I’ve been getting a lot of questions lately about the level of poverty where I live. Most of them come from people who’ve never been here, which has gotten me thinking about the impression in the developed world of poverty in general, and more specifically, in the developing world.

There seems to be a widespread impression that the level of poverty in the developing world (formerly the “third” world) is pretty much all the same. Nothing could be further from the truth.

I have not traveled to India, but people have told me that the poverty level there is heartbreaking, and visible everywhere. That’s a country with a space program, nuclear weapons, a film industry, rich cultural history, and a booming high-tech sector… yet many of the people cannot feed themselves. Astounding.

In the comparatively small region where I live, Central America, there is a huge disparity in wealth between countries. Places like Guatemala, Salvador and Honduras are known to be quite impoverished. So much so that large segments of their population uproot themselves at great personal risk to seek a better life in the United States.

But if you live in the US, you don’t meet many people from Panama or Costa Rica. That’s because the huge impetus to leave doesn’t exist here. Is the standard of living up to those of the average household in the US? No. But it’s a lot higher than in some neighboring countries.

To really understand poverty here, you’ve got to redefine the word to account for local standards. In the US, it’s common to think of people who don’t have all the things we do as being “poor”. Trouble is, that’s poverty defined from a US point of reference. People in many other parts of the world do not consider all the things we have to be necessities, so lacking them doesn’t cause those people to define themselves as poor.

As an example, a couple years ago I briefly lived with a Costa Rican family while studying Spanish. They would consider themselves solidly middle class. They own a home, have two older cars, two kids in school, cable TV, DVD, cell phones, stereo system, etc. What the house does not have is hot water. Like many Costa Ricans, they just never considered that something they needed, so they never installed a hot water system.

The single wage earner, the father, makes enough to support his family in the style to which they’ve become accustomed, which is not luxurious, but is certainly comfortable. Would his income be enough to support a middle class family in the US? Not even close. First off, the cost of living in the US is easily double that of Costa Rica. But also, what is considered middle class in the US would be thought of as wealthy to most Costa Ricans. This man’s annual income would place his family below the poverty line in the US.

Here’s another example: A few months ago, I went to see a property owner in the mountains outside Panama City. He lives in a small, beaten up, cinder block house with corrugated aluminum sheeting bolted on for a roof. There’s a long dirt driveway from the road, and chickens running around the yard. His clothes are torn and worn. Is he poor? Well, most foreigners traveling here would probably look at his situation and make that assessment. But this gentleman owns a million dollars worth of land free and clear in a country with a huge consumer lending system and low construction costs. For $20k down, he could build a beautiful new home, but that’s not important to him. In the culture of this country, he’s not poor. But many “gringos” passing by would see him as so. That’s our problem, not his.

Now, I don’t want to give you the wrong impression. To be sure, there is poverty in the developing world. There are people who struggle to feed their families here, and in fact, in the United States too. Poverty, and that which we might think to be poverty, is more visible here, but that doesn’t mean there’s more of it. Here’s something to ponder… according to the US Census Bureau, 35.9 million people live below the poverty line in America. That’s 15 times the entire population of Panama!

While on my trip, I got to thinking about human progress.

Just over a century ago, people marveled at the natural wonders of the world. The fastest thing on land was a cheetah. The only things in the air were birds and insects. The smoothest, the sharpest, the most powerful… you name it… all those titles belonged to objects or creatures of nature.

Today, man-made items trounce almost all of those records. Even the slowest production cars can outpace the cheetah. Every day, airplanes travel all over the world at speeds triple that of the fastest birds, while simultaneously carrying hundreds of passengers! From skyscrapers to microchips, everyday man-made objects have in many ways eclipsed those found in nature. The Great Barrier Reef is the only constructed object on Earth that’s viewable from space and NOT man-made.

Although many people have legitimate concerns about the byproducts of all this technology, I think most of us can agree that the sheer level of advancement is incredible.

Bandi and I are back in Panama. The trip was a bear, but it feels good to be back.