Burden

Saturday, November 21st, 2009 – Posting Two
In America I grew up working poor. In India, it seems, I will live a life which is somewhat privileged. I find myself struggling with my class identity and personal judgments and fears around being privileged as well as the sheer poverty of India.

Of all the amazing training I received, no one prepared me for the shame I feel of being white and privileged in a city and country where poverty is very real, very sobering and very aggressive.

During my adventures yesterday we stopped late at night to try to get food. The minute we stepped out of the car begging women circled us - trapping us against the car itself.
It never ceases to amaze me how universal suffering and helplessness are. This language has no barriers.

They are pulling at my sleeves and pleading , open-handed, 5 – 10 all around me. Some are missing teeth while others are blind and their closeness is suffocating and intimidating.
In India, begging is often a profession and rigged game. Many times, giving these women money means you are putting money into the hands of someone who is paying them to beg and then taking most of the money for themselves. The rumors and stories surrounding this ‘profession’ are endless (think Slumdog Millionaire).

I make the mistake of giving one of them a one rupee coin (50 rupees equals 1 dollar). My shame has become visceral. Eight pairs of hands thrust at my face, demanding equality. Is there dignity here?

Now, on the verge of tears and completely overwhelmed I crawl back into the car – escaping the reality outside.

In the next moments the police arrive with whistles and a paddy wagon to clear the beggars from this street and corner. I witness this through the tinted glass of the rental car.

I look out as this part of India looks in. I am blessed to be here.