Rich at heart

To say exactly what I learned from India would be impossible. Experience can not be told or taught. Its not something small, or even concrete, but it lives with me. I can feel it.

There are some things in my conscious that I can talk about however

In India there are basically two kinds of people, the are those plagued by Westernization who are fortunate enough to have money to live what we tend to think of as a "good" life. Then there are those with little or nothing. perhaps a shop, or a taxi to their name, making enough money in one day to feed their families for that sole day. The ones with nothing live on the street, literally sleeping on a sheet on the side walk with nothing. Return to the photo I posted of the two men bathing on the street in one of my earlier posts, this is the only shower they have and it's enough.

There are children there with no families who also live on the street. Together, with stray dogs, in the trash, where ever there is a place for them to be, and they are tough kids, but they seem happy more often than not. One boy we met while were were in Kolkatta didn't know English but sat with us at a Chai stand persistently asking for money, which by the way, happens every time you go into public. This Boy, with no shirt or shoes, and grungy shoulder length hair, sat with us, and because we could not give money, we bought him some tea and biscuits. It was just about this time that an older gentleman came along and tried to shoo  him away, yelling something angrily in Hindi. The man turned to us and said "He is Nothing." Melodie, one of the others on the trip, snapped back, "HE IS EVERYTHING!"  The man left. So, we sat and drank Chai, and Melodie teared up,and I felt lost by the whole helplessness of the situation, and the Boy drank his tea, and he ate his biscuits, and he sat with us. And then he left and we never saw him again.

The boy had been branded on his left fore arm with the Letter "R". He would keep pointing to it while he was asking for money.

 Everyone we asked said that this means he is owned by someone, He is pimped out by someone who makes him go into the streets and bring back a day's money. This put a new perspective on money for me.

The people plagued by Western Influence live a much different life. we rode on a second train form Kolkatta to New Dehli, we were in a first class sleeper, that was much cleaner and less crowded, that only the upper class could afford. These people were radically different than anyone I had come into contact with in India up to that point. They all had Ipods and fancy clothes and laptop computers and noisy cell phones... and they were the most unfriendly Indian people I had ever met. Unlike the people we met in the streets, these people didn't look you in the eye, they didn't smile when you smiled at them, they didn't have conversations with us or with each other for that matter. It was as if their technology and money had completely made them self absorbed and careless to the world. 

I would rather ride on the 3rd class, filthy, hot train, with a hole in the bathroom floor, that we rode the first time, where people were living outside of their head phones, any day of the week.

Lots more thoughts to come when time gives them to me.