A friend just wrote to me that she is reluctant to go to India because she can’t handle the poverty. Well, the poverty will be there whether you go or not. It’s a question of do you want to deal with your feelings of guilt, outrage, helplessness, confusion, despair and wonder?
We went to India ten years ago and I can’t get the image of a little girl pressed against the car window. She was gesturing to us to give her something to eat. She smiled, bowed namaste and then there were her little brown fingers pressed against the glass. Because we had just arrived, we didn’t have any rupees. We didn’t have anything. I wanted to give her something. I wanted to put her in the car, take her to our hotel and give her a bath.
The light changed and we went another mile and there was another group of kids. This time Wes dug around and found a few McVitie’s biscuits in the bottom of his pack. A little boy was pounding on his window and yelling. Wes rolled down the window and gave him the biscuits. He looked at the biscuits and threw them back into the car.
I confess that my first thought was: “Beggars can’t be choosers.”
Wes turned to me and said, “I think he wanted money.”
A few weeks later I’m back in Seattle getting crown work done. It’s a two-hour job so I asked for the nitrous oxide. The assistant put the mask on my face and I said, “Oh, I don’t remember nitrous having an odor.”
“It doesn’t. That’s our peach-scented mask!”
Little brown fingers pressed against the glass.
After a minute it became clear the mask was too big. “I’ll give you the pediatric mask,” the assistant said. “It’s grape-scented.” Then she opened up a tube of lip balm and said, “This is your lip balm, it’s yours to take home, but I’ll be applying it on your lips because your mouth is going to get stretched out.”
Little brown fingers pressed against the glass.
Hillary Clinton spent 565 million dollars on her campaign. I once bought a thirty dollar lipstick. The dentist gives me a grape-scented nitrous mask and my own lip balm.
Here’s the thing about seeing poverty anywhere: you don’t return with answers—just more questions.
Little brown fingers pressed against the glass.
This is beautifully written. I was in India in June, and the contrasts among those who have and the “have nots” is stark even there. If we saw all the forms of poverty every day, how would we live differently? And would it make a difference?
Mary Sue, You prove my point in that it brings up all kinds of questions! Maybe the even more painful question to ask is, “Why aren’t we living differently now?” I have not personally answered this to my own satisfaction.
Thanks for this, Debra. It helps me to keep the perspective global. Like many, My life happens in certain circles, certain contexts, all of them, globally speaking, privileged and resourced. This story is one of the countless reminders I need to compensate for that bias.
Todd, you’re right. In spite of the internet which gives us global access we still live in our own little worlds, our own little circles. As uncomfortable as it is, I need to be reminded daily of the rest of the world.
I was in India for the first time in 1979. The gap between haves (ppl in 5 star hotels) and have-nots (little gangs of children begging at the Taj Mahal and lepers begging at railway stations) was shocking. I was there again in 2003. This time at the Taj Mahal there were grown men hawking cheap ankle bracelets. We saw billboards everywhere touting family planning and universal education. It seemed to me that while the wealth gap had narrowed in India, it had widened in America.