An attempt

One thing that went through my mind over and over and over while I was in India was, the less people have, the happier they are.

I was travelling to the poorest of poor in India. These villages were small, poor, and seriously discriminated against. We work with the children of families who are the lowest caste in the Hindu caste system – called ‘Madiga’ or ‘Arundhiatier’. I cannot even start to explain the caste system here, because it would probably takes years or months or 10,000 blogs to talk about them. What you need to know is that this caste system is ancient, and despite us thinking modern life has changed things, it hasn’t. These people are called the ‘untouchables’ and are forced to live very separate lives from their higher caste country-men. Obvious ways that they are discriminated against are the fact that they live in a small community on the outskirts of the village, they are not allowed to drink from the same cups that others are – they drink out of plastic rather than steel. Their children attend the same schools, but are not allowed to eat from the same plates as the other children.

The caste differences has absolutely nothing to do with skin colour, as a foreigner nothing can be seen as different about these people. They are seriously discriminated against, and their lives are a daily struggle that they have no other choice but to accept.

In the eyes of the beautiful children we met, in the handshakes of the dozens of women who came to sit with us – these people knew true beauty. They knew beauty in the soul, in their eyes. I told our Indian colleague that I thought these people seemed so happy. She told me that it is a two-edged sword. These people were happy, yes, but just on the other side of happiness is deep loss, deep sorrow, deep trauma. The only reason they can be this kind of pure happy is because they had been the opposite of that.

We spoke to a woman who had been left by their husband, separated from her sons, and had to work hard labour in the fields for hours on end everyday – in the burning sun, in the pouring rain. She was only able to see her sons once every month, even though they were only 1 kilometre away from where she lived – we had seen them 10 minutes before we came to her house. She cried with joy when we showed her the pictures we had taken of them on our camera. She cried with sorrow when she told us her story. She cried of pain when she explained how her husband had beaten her because she was of a lower caste than him.

Looking in these women’s eyes, there is TRUE beauty. There is sorrow that they feel so deep, but they carry on with life and they have hope. She had hope that she would see her sons again soon, she had hope from the social worker we came with, that she had someone to be friends with. She had her support from the other villagers who had come to watch us speak with her, and earnestly trying to protect her although they couldn’t understand our words. Here, everyday life is a struggle. Being a woman is a struggle. Being poor, being born into this village is a struggle.

All the numbers of people we met who had literally nothing, continued to offer us whatever they had; their just-brewed chai tea, welcoming us into their tiny mud huts, pride and joy and anticipation just to talk to us.

It is difficult not to do some soul-searching here. To remember what is important. Remember that it is not the end of the world if I can’t afford to buy some new clothes. I have a home, I have a husband who really truly does love me, I have a job where I get paid, I am rich. Although I don’t feel like it, I am truly rich.

If I have to chose one thought, one lesson to stay with me after coming back home, it would be this one. To live life content, to live life happy knowing that SERIOUSLY, we have it good. To seek the important things, to remember the faces of people I met and the light in their eyes. We are people, we are all the same. The difference is that I was born here, they were born there. We should look after each other; there is no excuse for treating each other differently.

And most importantly, we are rich.