A Day in the Slums of India

I have always heard India was a terribly poor country. How bad could it be, I thought? I’ve traveled too many
third world countries. I’ve seen poor. How bad could it be?

As we were told the background of the people we were going to visit, I listened, I heard…but in my head the
message played clearly: how bad could it be?

During our drive there, I was distracted, happily chatting with friends. All of a sudden
we were here: our caravan of white people in white cars being stared at like an alien spacecraft.

As I listened to the strong determined women tell their stories I couldn’t help think of the Jews fleeing Egypt,
the Sudanese whose villages were burned, even the Native Americans. I loved how passionate they were
about demanding their rights. Most of you didn’t know that as I sat in the corner by the window a young boy
of 13 continually pressed for my attention. He brought me a flower, kissed my hand. He asked me for a
piece of gum. I whispered I had no more. He disappeared…minutes later he came with bubble gum as a gift
to me -- he seemed so happy.

As I walked around the town and snapped pictures, the children seemed happy, was I in denial? A very well
spoken 20 year old man walked along side of me. He asked many questions. What do you think of our
home? Not waiting to offend him I quickly answered, “the people seem happy.” He responded “we are
happy to be alive, but we are NOT happy. Would you want to live among trash and dirty pigs?” He abruptly
stopped my thoughts of denial.

Thoreau wrote, “go confidently in the direction of your dreams. Live the life you imagined.” I have hardly
believed this is the life they imagined or dreamed.

I can’t not be in denial of the help they need.