Voodoo and Vaccines

The first time I ever felt guilt at being privileged enough to be from a developed country was as a twelve-year old in Thailand.  I saw a leper, wizened from the disease and begging for money on the street.  He had one baht in his wooden bowl and I had ten in my hand.  I didn't give him my money.  I spent it on candyfloss at the beach.  I felt horrible about it for days afterwards, and still feel the same way about eating candyfloss as Naomi Campbell should when she wears fur and diamonds (dickhead).

Watching Voodoos and Vaccines, a joint VBS and One production about made me think about this sense of guilt that reoccurs when I think about the disparity between my less-than-affluent, generally mediocre life and that of some of those in the developing world.  It comes from that feeling that I should be doing more than just buying a charity shop dress once in a while.  I wish that filling in my details on a digital petition at the end of the documentary made me feel warm and glowy, but it's not quite enough, is it?

(Although you should all sign it immediately.  It's a start at least).

Does anyone else get this almost childish urge to save the world one moment, only to feel hypocritical, selfish and useless in the next?