I recently got an email from a friend that included the text "I've never been to India, but I hear it's both gross and beautiful just a few blocks apart."
This made me stop and think. and I've been thinking ever since.
Yes, this could be right. In fact, I think it's the idea that most people have of India - they get it from the media, from others' experiences. India is colorful, rich in culture, beautiful in people and architecture, but at the same time is dirty, impoverished, loud. India is ripe with contradiction, and one lives in the midst of disparity.
Every morning I walk through the slum on my way to and from the gym. I love this area - there are vivid colors, children laughing, a pure simplicity and vibrancy of life and community. It is beautiful.
But as I walk, I pass babies toddling around naked. I pass children squatted on the sidewalk, on the side of the street, taking care of their morning business. I pass men standing on the other side of the wall, urinating. Some may consider this gross; I can imagine some people I know turning their head, repulsed, saying something like, "Oh thanks, I really needed to see that." And I am very conscious of the fact that the puddle on the ground aren't from last night's rain. Yes, it may be gross, but I consider it injustice and a lack of dignity for these human beings. I pass fathers bathing their children, mothers washing clothes, both rationing water carefully. I look at my water bottle and realize that what I take for granted, consider a right, even, is a privilege. (Not to mention the fact that I am on my way to the gym. Where I pay money to exercise.)
When I walk through the slum, I am invading lives. But I have no choice; they have no choice. I'm embarrassed, try to avert my eyes, but everywhere there is life; life that is not mine, life most would consider private, life I should not observe. And it is hard. Every morning, my heart breaks. Every morning, I ask why. And every morning, I wonder what I am doing that makes any difference.
I have even found myself anticipating the day I have a two-wheeler so that I can ride through without looking.
But then I chide myself. Just because I don't look doesn't mean it doesn't exist. I don't ever want to become so unaware or calloused that I don't look. And, even more, I don't want to live my life looking without seeing.
Adventure is a path. Real adventure – self-determined, self-motivated, often risky – forces you to have firsthand encounters with the world. The world the way it is, not the way you imagine it. (Mark Jenkins)
This made me stop and think. and I've been thinking ever since.
Yes, this could be right. In fact, I think it's the idea that most people have of India - they get it from the media, from others' experiences. India is colorful, rich in culture, beautiful in people and architecture, but at the same time is dirty, impoverished, loud. India is ripe with contradiction, and one lives in the midst of disparity.
Every morning I walk through the slum on my way to and from the gym. I love this area - there are vivid colors, children laughing, a pure simplicity and vibrancy of life and community. It is beautiful.
But as I walk, I pass babies toddling around naked. I pass children squatted on the sidewalk, on the side of the street, taking care of their morning business. I pass men standing on the other side of the wall, urinating. Some may consider this gross; I can imagine some people I know turning their head, repulsed, saying something like, "Oh thanks, I really needed to see that." And I am very conscious of the fact that the puddle on the ground aren't from last night's rain. Yes, it may be gross, but I consider it injustice and a lack of dignity for these human beings. I pass fathers bathing their children, mothers washing clothes, both rationing water carefully. I look at my water bottle and realize that what I take for granted, consider a right, even, is a privilege. (Not to mention the fact that I am on my way to the gym. Where I pay money to exercise.)
When I walk through the slum, I am invading lives. But I have no choice; they have no choice. I'm embarrassed, try to avert my eyes, but everywhere there is life; life that is not mine, life most would consider private, life I should not observe. And it is hard. Every morning, my heart breaks. Every morning, I ask why. And every morning, I wonder what I am doing that makes any difference.
I have even found myself anticipating the day I have a two-wheeler so that I can ride through without looking.
But then I chide myself. Just because I don't look doesn't mean it doesn't exist. I don't ever want to become so unaware or calloused that I don't look. And, even more, I don't want to live my life looking without seeing.
Adventure is a path. Real adventure – self-determined, self-motivated, often risky – forces you to have firsthand encounters with the world. The world the way it is, not the way you imagine it. (Mark Jenkins)
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