First World Problems

I’ve been struck with an experience sharing conundrum.  Last week, I posted some photos on facebook of some of the sights that I had visited around Delhi.  I’m talking about the tourist sights: Safdarjung’s Tomb, Lodi Gardens, and the Qutb Minar.  They are beautiful pieces of architecture and, as a tourist, I really wanted to share the photos with my friends and family.  In posting, I reached a dilemma.  In no way, do these photos represent my actual experience in India.

So what is the “real India.”  Its certainly not just gorgeous palaces and tombs, surrounded by Sikh men on camels the way the travel books might lead you to believe.  On the other hand, its not just one giant garbage heap either.  Delhi can go from posh to slum without even crossing the street.  

This is very representative about the ultimate paradox that India represents on every level.  One minute, I’m reveling in the beauty of an historical monument,and the next minute, I’m giving snacks to a three-year-old begging for money in the middle of a busy intersection.  Its a roller coaster of emotions that my tourist photos can’t begin to represent.  Living here has already been one of the biggest challenges my mind and body have had to undergo.  

There is nothing like spending time in a slum to make you extremely grateful, or possibly even a little ashamed, of the comforts you have back home.  I have visited the slum in Karol Bagh, Delhi for several health camps with Maitri.  Today was a mega health camp that included HIV testing, distribution of medications, and enrollment for voter ID cards and universal ID cards.  Maitri also works hard to make sure migrant workers and the homeless have access to their own bank accounts.  There was a huge turnout and it was amazing to see people receiving these benefits first hand.  

I am constantly struck by a few qualities that turn up in people who live in these conditions.  The first is hospitality.  On each visit to the slum, I have been offered beverages and tea by people who can't afford to adequately feed themselves.  They also show pride.  They are not ashamed of the conditions in which they choose to live.  In fact they are excited to share it with us and show us their homes.  Finally, I'm struck by the children.  Kids will be kids wherever you go.  They always know how to have fun and bring life to the party.  They were mesmerized by our appearance.  One little girl couldn't stop touching our hair.  She said she could have hair like ours if she "painted" it.  They asked us where we came from and if we flew on a plane.  Compared to American kids, they seemed to have more curiosity and energy for everything around them.  While dealing with hunger and unsanitary living conditions leading to a whole host of medical problems, its striking how little they complain.  I have a feeling that the phrase "first world problems" will take on a whole new meaning when I come home.   

Peace, Love, Namaste:)

"Radhe Radhe"-- Visiting the Widows in Vrindavan

This weekend, we had the opportunity to visit our first sight of one of Maitri’s projects.  Project Jeevan works with a the high population of widows who have taken residence in Vrindavan.  Vrindavan is home to around 15,000 destitute and abandoned widows.  These women have been thrown from their homes by their own children and grandchildren, because widows are considered “bad omens” by some people here in India.  Many people consider them to be “untouchable” so it is very difficult for these women to find housing or work.   Most end up resorting to begging and living on the street. 

So why do so many end up in Vrindavan?  Vrindavan is adjacent to the holy city of Mathura, where Krishna is said to have been born.  According to Hindu beliefs, these widows are blamed for the deaths of their husbands, due to sins made in their past lives.  To make up for this, they travel to Vrindavan to devote the remainder of their lives to worshipping Krishna.  They hope that this will ensure they don’t endure this fate, or worse, in the next life.  

Maitri works to help preserve the dignity of the widows.  They have taken in about 500 to live in shelter homes and to help provide them with midday meals.  Maitri also makes sure they have Universal Identification Cards, necessary medical care, etc and are reaping the benefits of government schemes like Widow's Pension and Ration cards.  The main goal is to ensure that they live the rest of their lives in dignity.  

Our job yesterday was to get over 100 new widows registered for their ID cards.  Our coworkers from Maitri gathered information about each one including age, hometown, deceased husband’s name, weight etc.  Shantel was taking weights, and noted that the average weight of the widows was 99 lbs.  The lightest widow weighed 66 lbs.  I took ID photos for each, while managing to capture many other photos in the process.  

Shantel and I had the humbling experience of serving the widows their midday meal (barefoot).  They sat on the ground of the ashram in neat rows while we ladled their plates with curried vegetables and rice.  They each thanked us with quick utterances of “radhe radhe” bringing their hands to “prayer” at their hearts.  

I came away from the day with so many feelings.  I felt compassion for these women who have lost so much.  I felt anger at their families for abandoning them and frustration with the culture that would introduce such a practice.  Most of all, I felt hope.  I met many people, today, whose entire lives function around preserving the dignity of the widows.  These people live with them, eat with them, and love them everyday.  I met one woman who opened the top floor of her home to house 8 widows, when she could have rented out those rooms for more money to someone else.  

I feel hope when I interact with the widows themselves and they serve as a constant reminder of how little we need to survive.  They have lost everything, turned away by their own families.  Many of them possess nothing more than the clothes on their backs.  They live in shelters or on the streets, they have no way to make a living, and the are only guaranteed one meal per day (served from a pail).  Despite all of this, I saw joy in their faces.  They smiled at me and stroked my hair and face.  Even without a shared language, we laughed and joked.  They have found hope in the comfort of each other and their shared faith that they can have a better outcome in the next life.  

As for me,  the fact that my shower is lacking a curtain just doesn't seem that important anymore.   

Peace, Love, Namaste

Follow this link to donate to Maitri's widows 

Namaste From Delhi

Well, I made it!  I wasn't going to do my first post yet but after today I couldn't help myself.  We have settled in and will start work at Maitri on Monday.  I can't tell you how excited I am to start work.  Right now I feel a little strange just randomly relocating to this very foreign city.  So far, we've just been trying to settle in.  Once we get more practice with Hindi, going out alone will be much less intimidating.  

Today Anna (our roommate who also works at Maitri) took us out of the community of Som Vihar for the first time.  We went to a mall a few miles away to get some groceries and apartment necessities.  The mall was about 6 km away so we got to take our very first auto rickshaw.  Basically an auto-rickshaw is a rickshaw, pulled by a motor instead of a person or a bike.  They are really the most practical way to get around.  Most sane people would have hated every minute of that ride, but I secretly thought it was really fun.  

The traffic on these streets is out of this world.  You know how they show it in the movies, with cars honking and darting in between each other; people running through the gaps and cows are in the street.  Yeah, it's worse than that.  Lets also bear in mind that South Delhi (where we are) is the calm part of the city.  Its UNBELIEVABLE that I didn't witness an accident.  There are lane lines on the road, but you wouldn't know it.  Vehicles just pile in wherever there is space.  If there isn't space, they honk and go for it anyway. There is never more than a foot between two vehicles because if it opens more than that, an unhelmeted motorcyclist will fill it. Pedestrians dart in between traffic like there's no danger and I wasn't kidding about the cows.  They are basically just traffic obstacles. 

The city is… real.  You've seen pictures and movies and read books, but its somehow not real until you are here.  I've only been in it one day and I feel so enlightened.  Stray dogs are everywhere on the streets, I've seen horses tied to cars, I saw a man getting his hair cut next to a fruit stand.  The slum villages are all around, poring out of their areas and into the streets.   We live in, whats considered a really nice neighborhood.  Our housing is on the upscale side of things and we are still located right next to slums. Based on this I can only imagine that I haven't even begun to see the scale of poverty that is here.  

On our way home from the mall, our rickshaw stopped at a red light.  Almost immediately a girl appeared at the side of our vehicle.  She must have been about 6 years old and dressed in rags.  Her only adornment was a little nose ring and a colorful dirty shawl.  Tied to her hip was a toddler of about 1 1/2 years old.  He had a runny nose that no one bothered to wipe.  She stayed next to our rickshaw staring at us with sad eyes, never losing eye contact and making a gesture from the child's mouth, to her own mouth, and then stretching out her hand for donation.  It broke my heart.  We cannot give them money, because they probably are employed by a slumlord who won't be using the money to buy them food.  Shantel had the idea of being prepared when we go out with little baggies that have supplies in them (food, soap, rags, etc.) just small, cheap items that they can actually keep for themselves.  I'm going to try and purchase some supplies in the next few days. 

On that note I'm signing off!  Sorry no pictures yet:(  Hope all is well back home.  Peace, Love, Namaste!