Today’s guest blogger is our friend Rev. Julia Older, Minister of the Unitarian Universalist Fellowship of Redwood City, California
Just back from a month in India, I have noted that practically everyone here immediately mentions that country’s poverty, as in, “I just could not go, because I couldn’t face the poverty there.” Well, I did not find the poverty overwhelming. I think of myself as observant and empathetic, so I was surprised by my lack of discomfort.
Sunset in Kerala
I have one idea why I did not feel overwhelmed: there is a difference between poverty and misery. I rarely saw anyone who appeared to be greatly suffering. Though many were living in what we might consider slums or on the streets, most seemed to be working and managing . . . although the wages were unbelievably low.
photo by Clare Whitfield
I did see many people begging.We were asked to ignore those people who followed us asking for handouts and were, instead, encouraged to give to organizations doing good work among the poor. Hindus give alms to yogis sitting at temple doors. They don’t give money to street beggars, some of whom are brought into the cities by handlers. I decided to follow this suggestion. I have wondered if that decision shaped my outlook.
photo by Clare Whitfield
There was a crush of street people and vendors wherever we turned. Glance at something, and they are glued to you, attracting other vendors in what is soon a suffocating swarm. “No thank you” is perceived to be the first parry of a negotiation: immediately the vendor will say, “Pleeese Madam, only 100 rupees. OK madam, for you 70 rupees. At 4:00 PM – “You are my first customer today! 50 rupees!” And finally, with resignation, “OK madam: what will you give?” There were times I didn’t dare look, even though I wanted a chess set for my grandson and bangle bracelets for my granddaughters.
All along the roads we saw people living in small lean-tos made of all sorts of found materials with roofing of plastic sheets. But, there were cooking fires and pet dogs, thin but with glossy coats, and at evening people sitting with one another resting and talking and laughing. Surely their lives are hard, but, perhaps, adequate in a mild climate during the dry season.
Photo by Clare Whitfield
What has haunted me since my return is how hard people work for so little money. I saw artisans of all kinds, stooped workers gleaning the fields, families spinning rope, and women making incense sticks out of cardamon and cow dung: all very, very labor intensive.
I visited a factory where a man was weaving coconut husks into door mats of the kind that you can buy at any KMart here. It took him about four hours at a loom to make one, and that is after the jute had been harvested, transported, spun, and dyed. After import, we pay less than $20.
Lord Krishna on Flute (photo by Clare Whitfield)
Temples and shrines are everywhere. Chanting or the reading of the Mahabharata drifts over the villages. Even women working in the fields wear brilliant saris. Wherever we went bindis were put on our foreheads and garlands of marigolds were placed around our necks in welcome. We were treated with extraordinary hospitality.
All told, I loved India, found it fascinating and will happily return, if ever I can.
