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:)