India #1: A Different Kind Of Hopeless

There were really 3 chunks that I tell people about when I explain India to people. (This keeps it short for time sake and our attention spans.) So I want to share those 3 chunks with you all in the next few days and maybe a funny story or cultural blunder in between. For background: there were 3 of us who went: Ashley (my teammate), Emily (another teacher with our organization in a different part of China, and myself (Abram).

Chunk 1: A Different Kind of Hopelessness.

Poverty there was bad. Very bad. For the first day and a half I felt bad pointing my camera anywhere because I didn't want to take pictures of people in their worst. Poverty was unlike anything I had ever seen. I journaled one night that if these people were beggars, everyone else I've ever seen was simply a "request maker." An example of this comes the first night we were there, Emily was sick and throwing up and Ashley and I went to find some food. Thankfully, we found some cornflakes and nan (Indian bread stuff). On our way back, we had children (4-9 years old) run up and beg for the food. I dented the box by trying to hold it so they wouldn’t take it. As I held it up, they hung off my arm to get it. I just kept thinking “G, how is this right? How does this happen? We’ve got to fix it.”

That night I understand the parable of the persistent widow even more.
I also understood that I really am the rich young ruler.

The next afternoon we were explained the poverty situation at Mother Teresa’s volunteer registration. “Mafia-style” was one explanation. Some people legitimately need it. A lot of them are either hired or chose this lifestyle. Women will borrow other’s babies so they can beg better. They often want money, food, or milk for their baby and will turn around and sell it back to the store after you leave. Long term volunteers, the Sisters (Nuns) and Indian NGOs all recommended giving to organizations rather than people on the street. Otherwise your actually making the problem worse no matter how much you want to help. We were told the story of a man who was a drunk and now homeless. They (Sisters) bought him a rickshaw (to make money) which he later sold for beer money. They bought him a house/room to sleep in and his response was “Why would I live in there when I can live on the street and volunteers will give me money?” I fear this attitude and view on life is wide spread.

Day 4, I took a walk with my music and camera. I needed a Music/Photo Date with Dad. I walked a different way and as I talked and listened and took photos I felt peace come over me. I smiled and waved at someone and they waved back! They smiled back! And… they didn’t ask for anything! Can you imagine passing people for 4 days who every time you smile at them they hold out their hand?! Literally. Its so heartbreaking when you can’t even smile at people. I got to a different part of the city where poverty wasn’t as bad (apparently they concentrate themselves on high volunteer areas so we were in the worst areas). I felt joy come back into me for the first time in days and not really realizing it had been missing. I stopped and leaned up against a rail and just started to thank the Father for the people, the place, one of His countries, and getting to be there. The first time in 4 days that I could really be thankful with joy. As I looked around for more things to thank him for, I saw this…

It was as if someone pulled the plug out and all my joy slowly drained - like the color being drained out of a picture. There between a motorcycle and a car was a man - curled up with all he had - nothing. It’s just so heavy and I can’t seem to fix anything. There’s just so much “it’s not supposed to be this way.” In this time, the Father showed me what I had been feeling is hopelessness. Not like the depressed hopelessness that I usually think of, but just a lack of hope for the future. This is life. They don’t know to desire anything better. It hurt.

My heart broke and raged with frustration – this is all they know of life! There is better! There is something better! Don’t you want to live a better life than this? … They don’t know a better life is possible. They’re beggars that’s all they know of life is to beg. Then part of me realized, so am I.

India was heavy. Chaotic and in my week that I saw seemed to be lacking hope for the future. But I chose to believe His words when He says He will restore all things to himself. He will bring His kingdom down. Even if it doesn’t look like it and hope seems to be far from it, He promised and He will come.