Having Hope?

After my time in Peru, Romania, Tanzania, Mongolia, and India, I’ve reached a point where people no longer look different, food all begins to become the same, languages are simply a way of expressing aspects of life that are all too visible, and the only thing that is different is the number of cultural and social characteristics that impede development. The impoverished and oppressed of Romania may have slightly fairer skin than those in India, but the children still have the same enthusiastic spirit in meeting a foreigner and the struggling parents still have the same tired look. In Peru they may eat heaps of white rice with a side of potatoes generally in a cream sauce while in Mongolia they eat the same but with soy sauce, in both cases they lack sufficient nutrients and as a result, the children are shorter by Western standards. In Tanzania they express themselves in Swahili and in Orissa, India, in Oriya, but in both places, the community members are telling me about their needs and asking for money. The situation of poverty is essentially the same all around the world: the family struggles to make enough to feed the sizeable family and the children are forced to help with the workload so everyone’s focus is survival. Thus, it becomes the discrimination, the political atmosphere, the traditions that make each country distinct and that make India possibly the hardest country to change.

Varying levels of negative stereotypes, corruption, and inefficiencies exist in all five of the countries, but India slaps on one more, the caste system. In this intricate hierarchy of four major castes with innumerable sub-castes your rank defines crucial aspects of life. For example, the only people who can sweep floors must be members of the sweeper sub-caste. Thus, if you are not a member of the sweeper sub-caste, you’ve never handled and refuse to ever handle a broom. The simple task of sweeping the floor becomes a concrete definition of where you are in society. It’s no wonder that for such a richly endowed country, the people remain so poor.

India’s wealth is not unknown to the rest of the world. Their precious metals, silks, and IT boom are part of the reason why the marginal rich can live so lavishly. The large mansions cleaned and guarded by at least 10 subordinates with a nice car parked in the paved driveway and a well-maintained yard enclosed by an architecturally pleasing wall is an crude juxtaposition to the world on the other side the wall: dilapidated small buildings, uneven dirt roads, neglected cows, bicycle rickshaws and cars from the 60’s and 70’s. How can someone live in such a house and ignore the reality of what is just outside the door? It’s absolutely unbelievable!

After so many visits to observe the educational situation in Ruchika’s impoverished communities, I was starting to become depressed about helping India. Yes, the children are getting some semblance of education, but it’s simply insufficient to bring them out of their current situation. They will continue to take on jobs in the railways stations, scavenge for recyclables, or sell wood and agricultural products. Then I saw the government school that the Ruchika shelter children attend and the students were running amuck while the teachers were negligent and I became even more depressed. Where is the quality education? Yesterday I got my answer while visiting the Ruchika Preschool and High School, independently run apart from Ruchika Social Service Organization (RSSO). The children there were simply excelling, even by Western standards. At the tender age of 2 and 3, they were already being taught English on top of Oriya, were being trained in respect and responsibilities, and were encouraged to express their individual creativities. All children deserve that same level of education with teachers that are invested in each an every child--I simply can’t understand how Ruchika can be providing this type of education to the “haves” and a wishy-washy education the “have-nots”! But as with all things in India (and around the world), I guess it boils down to money. Ruchika pays their slum school teachers and train platform teachers 1000 rupees per month (that’s about $23), while the teachers in just the Ruchika Preschool are paid 3 to 5 times that amount! (To give you an idea, common laborers make about 1,500 rupees per month.) No wonder the slum children can’t get quality education.

BUT, I have to have hope that India can change. Knowing that they are capable of high education standards leads me to believe that one day every child can receive such an education. (…However, in my conversations with RSSO staff members (who make only 2,000-5,000 rupees per month, disregarding the salary of the top few staff members who make about 15,000 rupees per month) concerning education and injustices in India, they always laugh and say that such change will not occur, the caste system will not be absolved, and the people will always look for ways to make more money by exploiting fellow Indians, at least this will be the case during our lifetime. One staff member said, “You know, people die just hoping.”)