Though i wish i was, I'm not a charitable person. I'll frown if i spot little girls in baju kurung standing by the gas pumps with rolls of calendars in their hands, greeting me with Salam. I admire their courage for coming up to me and convincing me of my own sincerity even before i pretend to be interested in their calendars but truth be known, that's all they get from me.
I have nothing against the very concept of charity, no that's not it. I just have problems giving away my hard-earned money to some kids who are too unfortunate to have to hop onto some in-denial-gas-station patrons like me.
So the idea of purposely getting up in the morning on weekends, or any other of my already limited free time to visit a shelter or a home, was simply beyond me.
But yesterday, that's exactly what i did. I visited Pusat Bimbingan Remaja Puteri, Raudhatus Sakinah.
With a friend who had a professional purpose for being there, with a sister who had a personal one, i, with a nudge of persuasion, agreed to tag along.
I first woke up with a headache, i second failed to find my favourite pants, i third wanted to go back to bed.
I finally didn't.
45 minute-drive after, i found myself in front of a very common looking house, with the gate locked. I thought we were too early, but apparently that's how it is. The gate is locked at all times.
We were invited in, given a talk, allowed a look...all that while our heads were busy guessing which girls were raped, which ones did drugs, which ones were the mothers of the 2 newborn babies each of us wanted to hold.
I came home with more than a headache.
I came home promising to go back.