I'm about to stand on a soapbox in my (never so humble) way. . . . . . . . . I hear a lot of comments about how 'happy' the natives seem to be. These comments are always from temporary travellers to India who will return home to their lives of comfort and ease with their cameras full of pictures of the 'happy natives' and happy, happy stories to regale the neighbors.
Um-m-m-m-m. I might have a different opinion. What else is new? I see Indian employees working on the school grounds who are surreptitiously always trying to find someone who would be willing to take their children back to America with them in the hopes that the child or children will have a chance at a better life. I see young mothers with eyes as old as time.
Is it a "happy life" to live without running water? Indoor toilets? Electricity? At least a dozen deadly, high communicable childhood diseases that would be easily preventable through immunizations? Is it a happy life to live in a house with a dirt floor, watching your children playing barefoot in the grass among some of the deadliest snakes in the world? Is it a happy life knowing that the best possible chance for your child would be to give her away to a perfect stranger? Did you know that over a million Indian babies die each year from diarrhea? Over 50,000, particularly in the rural areas, die of venomous snake bite? Does that sound like a "Happy Life" to you?
Sometimes, I am so ashamed. Tourists and those just 'passing through' choose the things they see; they are looking through a rose colored lens. They 'choose' to ignore the grinding poverty, the evil of a caste system that persists in spite of laws to prevent it, people living homeless in the streets, and lifeless looking women holding their little infants and begging with a cup.
So . . . . . . . . today, I am ashamed. I'm ashamed that I never knew. Ashamed that I will leave these wonderful people behind having done little or nothing to improve their circumstances. Saddened that little Usha in the 5th grade has stolen my heart with her glasses, orthotic shoes and anklets - and that I will never see her again nor know if she was one of the lucky ones who miraculously will escape from this evil place.
I am no tourist. That's my problem. I can't bear to snap photos of the misery I see. I feel as if I am imposing. I shouldn't be here. I shouldn't be profiting even by a single photo.
May God be watching over this people forever. I can't. But I would if I could. I love their grace, their graciousness, and their beauty. They, who have so little, would give me, who has so much, everything. Yesterday, I complimented a housemaid on her ankle bracelet and she took it off and tried to give it to me. I, who thought I had so much to teach, have become the humble pupil.
I am gratified, blessed, and forever indebted to the wonderful people of India. They know they have been shortchanged. They know that their children deserve a better chance at "happiness" than they ever had. So, would I call them "Happy Natives"? No. How condescending and demeaning. But Wonderful? Absolutely, without a doubt, they are wonderful.
Um-m-m-m-m. I might have a different opinion. What else is new? I see Indian employees working on the school grounds who are surreptitiously always trying to find someone who would be willing to take their children back to America with them in the hopes that the child or children will have a chance at a better life. I see young mothers with eyes as old as time.
Is it a "happy life" to live without running water? Indoor toilets? Electricity? At least a dozen deadly, high communicable childhood diseases that would be easily preventable through immunizations? Is it a happy life to live in a house with a dirt floor, watching your children playing barefoot in the grass among some of the deadliest snakes in the world? Is it a happy life knowing that the best possible chance for your child would be to give her away to a perfect stranger? Did you know that over a million Indian babies die each year from diarrhea? Over 50,000, particularly in the rural areas, die of venomous snake bite? Does that sound like a "Happy Life" to you?
Sometimes, I am so ashamed. Tourists and those just 'passing through' choose the things they see; they are looking through a rose colored lens. They 'choose' to ignore the grinding poverty, the evil of a caste system that persists in spite of laws to prevent it, people living homeless in the streets, and lifeless looking women holding their little infants and begging with a cup.
So . . . . . . . . today, I am ashamed. I'm ashamed that I never knew. Ashamed that I will leave these wonderful people behind having done little or nothing to improve their circumstances. Saddened that little Usha in the 5th grade has stolen my heart with her glasses, orthotic shoes and anklets - and that I will never see her again nor know if she was one of the lucky ones who miraculously will escape from this evil place.
I am no tourist. That's my problem. I can't bear to snap photos of the misery I see. I feel as if I am imposing. I shouldn't be here. I shouldn't be profiting even by a single photo.
May God be watching over this people forever. I can't. But I would if I could. I love their grace, their graciousness, and their beauty. They, who have so little, would give me, who has so much, everything. Yesterday, I complimented a housemaid on her ankle bracelet and she took it off and tried to give it to me. I, who thought I had so much to teach, have become the humble pupil.
I am gratified, blessed, and forever indebted to the wonderful people of India. They know they have been shortchanged. They know that their children deserve a better chance at "happiness" than they ever had. So, would I call them "Happy Natives"? No. How condescending and demeaning. But Wonderful? Absolutely, without a doubt, they are wonderful.
Thank you for this perspective.
ReplyDeleteAmen to that, Betty. I have thanked God every day for twenty four years for a mother who loved her child enough to let her go. It is not the way the world should be, it is so wrong for the mother and for the child, yet I received one of the greatest gifts I have ever received...my beloved daughter, Grace Madhuri...You are making a difference one child at a time, yet I understand your frustration that so much more needs to be done and is not...I have had the good fortune of knowing and spending time with Indian people who have spent their lives in India trying to make a difference for the little children who have been "left behind". These people do Christ's work for Him on Earth. It matters not that they are Hindu or whatever...THEY are doing what Jesus commissioned us all to do...bless them in their efforts. You are making a difference, Betty. You are. One child at a time....while it is not as much as I know you would like to do...it is SO important...You are important to these children...blessings to you, my dear, dear friend...diane
ReplyDeleteYour words of encouragement and understanding mean so much. I know you understand on a different level what I'm trying to say because of Grace. I hope my own experiences are helping you to see what her life would have been without you and that it is a blessing in your entire family's lives.
DeleteThis reminds me of William Blake's poem The Chimney Sweeper. In it the child's parents give him over to the miserable and short life of sweeping chimneys, and the child recounts "And because I am happy and dance and sing, They think they have done me no injury". Kids will still be kids and play sometimes, but they might not have much of a childhood at all. The people in India can still show happiness, but that doesn't necessarily mean they have good lives.
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