October 2nd is Gandhi’s birthday, and a national holiday here. Many Indians slept in and ate a leisurely breakfast. But about 250 fellow employees, teachers, social workers, volunteers and students went on a walk throughout the slums of Mumbai in Gandhi’s name, and I was one of them. The idea was to go out into low-income and impoverished neighbourhoods and connect with people. From the photos, you can get an idea of how we interacted through some art activities and discussions.
Personally I had looked forward to going into Dharuvi (Asia’s biggest slum, here in Mumbai) to connect with people, mainly children. The idea was to do something positive in the name of Gandhi on his birthday: to be the change we want to see in the world.
But when the day came, I got up at 7 a.m. and cursed myself for agreeing to go through with the walk for two selfish reasons: because I hadn't slept enough, and because I was slightly hung over. I skipped breakfast, water, and brushing my teeth to get to the train on time. After meeting in a central location, all 250 of us separated into groups and set out for different quarters of the city (my group had been slated for Dharuvi). We traveled by bus and walked for some time, until at last our group entered the community. It was then that I began to feel some nuances of trepidation and a little anxiety.
Although I was smiling and distributing candies and stickers and pencils and crayons to children, inside I was a scared child, afraid of poverty, the choice I'd made to come to this seemingly backwards country, and the masses of people around me crammed into those small and tattered living quarters. Within minutes, I had distributed the things to the swarming children. Eventually my fear gave way to a positive energy that came not only from the kind gestures and words from the people of this neighborhood but from my inspiring colleagues who took time to hold children, talk to the people, shake hands and instruct (in hindi, of course. i couldn't do as much as a bystander although i did play with the children. It was a photo op sans Obama, a Big Mac without Clinton on his campaign trail. Although unseen to the world, a few these moments were perhaps the most inspiring I'd felt all year.
Once I began to feel comfortable about being there I remembered why I chose to come here for this job. I have been in the slums here before with my students, and was reminded that fifty percent of Mumbai’s residents live in similar conditions. Despite such circumstances, I found that the people of Dharuvi were in very high spirits: smiling, laughing, greeting us on a holiday. Children drew happily with the pens and crayons and paper that we distributed. They participated in a contest for prizes; they comically posed for photos and ran back to me to see the digital image; they danced and played around us, happy with the presence of strangers, simple stickers and balloons. Once again, I felt that train wreck collision of two worlds in my heart and was reminded that humility is precious.
The point here from my perspective was not to “save” the people from themselves, or enlighten or bring some kind of band-aid solution to the kids and their problems, but just to interact and understand and perhaps share a smile and a few words of Hindi or English with some fellow Mumbaikars for five minutes. It was a snapshot of life. By no means did I feel heroic or as if I was acting out of salvation. It was just a nice experience, to choose to spend a morning in a place that I’d otherwise not likely be, trying for a moment to "be the change," although I don't know how much we changed anything, but for making 45 kids smile and laugh for a few minutes ... in the name of India's fearless and legendary leader who owned nothing more than what he carried with him.
It isn’t really appropriate or justifiable to compare Sweden or the US to India for many reasons, but as I stood there surrounded by so many enthusiastic kids I remembered many of my American and international students in Göteborg, Trollhättan and Grand Haven who had everything yet were the most unhappy people in the world. A significant percentage of my high school students, esp. in the US, demonstrated negative attitudes in the classroom about school (that it "sucked," for ex) and/or were on anti-depressants and struggling through a lot of "problems," yes, BIG problems, stemming from too many choices in a society that offers too much.
Here, by contrast, children here today demonstrated so much gratitude in receiving simple gifts of pencils and paper. These children, who have no toys but for makeshift kites assembled with plastic and twine, greeted us only with warmth and smiles. I wondered for a moment about these two types of classrooms, feeling more like a student in the classroom of Dharuvi, and acknowledging a simple revelation that I had chosen this path that has become my life.
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