More than half of India's children are undernourished, more than 80% of
its population lives below $2 a day, and half of its adults remain
illiterate.
Sunday, July 14, 2013
The Early Years 2010: 6/4/10
Originally posted on June 4th, 2010.
India has started to claim my love. Everyday I walk the streets. It is the least I could do to really experience life here. This world is so foreign in so many ways. Nothing that I see is home, I don’t understand the things I see. So much of it makes me sad. But every time I step out my door and put my foot to the pavement, I start to feel this loving connection, as if here is home in some odd way. So I walk, and I watch the people and the dogs. The strange, loud, and absurd Bangalore. I watch people go about their simple lives. And I witness their basic love for life. How is it that ten thousand miles away, there can be a place where most have immense amounts of belongings; a place where achievement is high and everything we need is supplied, how is it, that people there can be so unhappy but those I see here.... they are? Yes there is suffering, so much suffering. Life here is all about survival. But I see the enjoyments of simple things in life. I see people with their families, sitting outside and just being. They smile and laugh when I walk by them, or if I talk to them. They are so basic and most have this brand of innocence I’ve never seen. The children love when I take their picture. I show them on the screen and they light up. The women are shy of me, they smile nervously and turn their heads away. They all wonder why I am here. I wonder what they think when I walk their streets, stare at the environment around me. Most stare, some don’t acknowledge me there at all. Almost everyone I encounter is kind to me. And I have the inclination even those I take as rude aren’t intending it to be that way. What is about India? I can’t even find the words to describe it.
India has started to claim my love. Everyday I walk the streets. It is the least I could do to really experience life here. This world is so foreign in so many ways. Nothing that I see is home, I don’t understand the things I see. So much of it makes me sad. But every time I step out my door and put my foot to the pavement, I start to feel this loving connection, as if here is home in some odd way. So I walk, and I watch the people and the dogs. The strange, loud, and absurd Bangalore. I watch people go about their simple lives. And I witness their basic love for life. How is it that ten thousand miles away, there can be a place where most have immense amounts of belongings; a place where achievement is high and everything we need is supplied, how is it, that people there can be so unhappy but those I see here.... they are? Yes there is suffering, so much suffering. Life here is all about survival. But I see the enjoyments of simple things in life. I see people with their families, sitting outside and just being. They smile and laugh when I walk by them, or if I talk to them. They are so basic and most have this brand of innocence I’ve never seen. The children love when I take their picture. I show them on the screen and they light up. The women are shy of me, they smile nervously and turn their heads away. They all wonder why I am here. I wonder what they think when I walk their streets, stare at the environment around me. Most stare, some don’t acknowledge me there at all. Almost everyone I encounter is kind to me. And I have the inclination even those I take as rude aren’t intending it to be that way. What is about India? I can’t even find the words to describe it.
Namaste
Namaste is the traditional Hindu greeting used throughout India, and
translates to "I bow to you." It is in essence a spiritual
acknowledgment of another.
The Early Years 2010 - Adjustment to India - Outside the Fantasy
Originally posted May 26, 2010
My experience so far in India is and isn't what I expected. I have come to the conclusion that we (Americans) live in a world of ignorance. Each one of us, whether we realize it or not, live within our own personal "fantasy" world. American society in general has taught us to fill our lives with material objects. We are constantly striving to make money and buy bigger and better things. We are over achievers, always searching for something to complete us. We build these lives as a way to deny facing the reality of the world around us. Yes we read the newspapers, we watch the news broadcasts, we may even donate some money toward a worthy cause. But this is the limit of our perceptions. What is really occurring in the world outside of our perfect existences is not reality to us. It is only when we remove ourselves from the surplus of comforts and false ideals that we come to reality. Once an American steps outside of his or her fantasy, they are forever changed. Experiencing life in a developing country is life altering. All of the comforts of home are gone. I see poverty in my front yard, have seen it in the eyes of children and the elderly. I have witnessed homeless animals digging through trash to survive, and beggars with nothing of their own but sorrow. The earth is heavily abused, and the only difference between here and home is that the exploitation isn't swept under the rug as it is so easily done in America. It isn't hidden. India is a reality beyond any imagination. It is beautiful, sacred, and suffering. It is when one witnesses the everyday human, animal, and earth suffering that we realize America is nothing but a dream. It is a refuge from what the world is facing. Yes we struggle there too, but not in ways even comparable to the living beings here and in so many other parts of the world. How does an American come back home to a fantasy?
My experience so far in India is and isn't what I expected. I have come to the conclusion that we (Americans) live in a world of ignorance. Each one of us, whether we realize it or not, live within our own personal "fantasy" world. American society in general has taught us to fill our lives with material objects. We are constantly striving to make money and buy bigger and better things. We are over achievers, always searching for something to complete us. We build these lives as a way to deny facing the reality of the world around us. Yes we read the newspapers, we watch the news broadcasts, we may even donate some money toward a worthy cause. But this is the limit of our perceptions. What is really occurring in the world outside of our perfect existences is not reality to us. It is only when we remove ourselves from the surplus of comforts and false ideals that we come to reality. Once an American steps outside of his or her fantasy, they are forever changed. Experiencing life in a developing country is life altering. All of the comforts of home are gone. I see poverty in my front yard, have seen it in the eyes of children and the elderly. I have witnessed homeless animals digging through trash to survive, and beggars with nothing of their own but sorrow. The earth is heavily abused, and the only difference between here and home is that the exploitation isn't swept under the rug as it is so easily done in America. It isn't hidden. India is a reality beyond any imagination. It is beautiful, sacred, and suffering. It is when one witnesses the everyday human, animal, and earth suffering that we realize America is nothing but a dream. It is a refuge from what the world is facing. Yes we struggle there too, but not in ways even comparable to the living beings here and in so many other parts of the world. How does an American come back home to a fantasy?
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)