As I rush down the street to avoid the beggars, a woman steps directly in front of me. She pushes her child into my arms. I grasp reflexively, and find myself holding a small naked boy. We look at each other. Dark, tired eyes. He begins to cry silently. He has skinny arms and legs, a distended stomach, blotchy skin, and patchy hair. He has kwashiokor, a disease of malnutrition – literally “the disease the first baby gets when the second one comes.” Then, the woman shouts and agressively pushes her upheld hand into my stomach. Is she saying that i am fat? My friends wouldn’t think so. Yet, compared to her, I am fat.