Living in a Jaipur slum

I woke up at 7am and man I had to pee. 

We all know the feeling. The internal debate that subsequently takes place. Do I try to hold it in until the alarm goes off and get a bit more sleep? Or do I absolutely have to get up and walk to the restroom? This time, it was the latter. But it was different than anytime before. 

This time, I got up from the concrete floor and unlatched the bar locking the door from the inside. I took care not to stumble over my snoozing rommate, my companion in this 6 by 8 foot concrete box with no windows. I slipped on my sandals and walked down the shared hallway - also concrete, the floor wet with what I hope was water. 

I stepped outside into the morning haze, carefully avoiding the stumbling traps - roots, mismatched concrete steps, and piles of garbage. I then joined the procession of Indian men walking down the street with water bottles. I only had to pee, so I walked empty-handed. 

There are of course no toilets here, since there's no running water. What water we have is in buckets, delivered daily, and used for bathing, cooking, cleaning, and drinking. This being an illegal settlement, no proper water or sewage system has been constructed. And so the men walk down then street to defecate in a local wooded area, though some choose to go on the side of the street. That is also acceptable. The water is used to clean yourself afterwards. No one here uses toilet paper. Just make sure, if you come to India, beware of the left hand. And bring hand sanitizer.

I should have mentioned, I'm staying in an Indian slum. One of my friends is studying Hindi in Jaipur, the 8th time he's been in the country. He speaks almost fluently. He lives here, the only foreigner to ever to do so (according to the locals). For this, he's somewhat of a local celebrity. The kids love him, and many ofthe adults are taken aback when he is able to converse with them. They laugh in surprise. Everyone here wants to learn English, because it often leads to greater opportunities. Yet, here is this american learning Hindi. Puzzling.

His rent is about $20 a month. With food and transportation,the lives on $80/month. Not bad. Of course, to enjoy this price, you have to be OK with open, fresh-air "toilets," bucket showers, never being completely clean, hand washing clothes, maybe enough electricity for one lightbulb, and questionable sanitary conditions. 

I write this a bit sardonically, because it is so different from what I (and all of us) are used to. It's almost comical. But it can only be so when you know it's only temporary. This style of life is a choice, for Stephen and for me (a very short one in my case). That is not the case for everyone else who lives here, which is at times sobering. Without a doubt, they would all choose more comfortable living conditions if given there choice. Most constantly strive to get out of these conditions. But they're stuck, because of family responsibilities, lack of education and work opportunities, and of course the caste system. 

Don't let anyone tell you - like my high school history books - that the caste system in India is dead. That's absolutely not true. Browsing through Indian newspapers, every day you see a story about a young eloping couple, from different castes, who have been murdered (possibly burned alive) by their own families for marrying outside their caste. This is only one example. They're everywhere. 

Yet, the slum is not some violent, dangerous place where people langour despondently. Or if it is, I've not seen it. Admittedly, I've only seen a very small portion. I've been told there are of course the drunkards who are violent, the glue sniffing children who will mob you and turn out your pockets. But I've met people who are (surprise) no different than you and me. They don't have internet or chat about the latest episode of Breaking Bad, but they have a strong sense of community that, coming from the USA, I envy. I went to a play (which lasts 10 days, 8-10pm) where much of the community turned out to watch, socialize, and play. Kids chasing each other, teenagers were flirting, and adults were tryingto control their little monsters. It reminded me of a 4th of July picnic, large scale. 

My friend lives with a family, and the mother makes us dinner each night. It's much better than what I would make myself. Yet, she was embarassed to serve me at first, thinking I wouldn't like it. I wish I knew Hindi, because I can tell by their mannerisms and their eyes, the family is loving, fun, and intelligent.

For me, my short stay in Kachi Basti Tila 7B (name of the slum) has probably been the most interesting portion of my travels so far. It's not at all what I expected. I came in expecting danger and depressing circumstances. Instead, at least in this small part of the slum, I found genuinely nice and curious people, a different way of living, and even a couple friends. It was perhaps naive of me to think otherwise, but it's just reinforced the notion that people really are the same everywhere. The only real differences surround the style of living. And here, this style of life has caused me to inquire more into the injustices of social and economic systems. 

One more thing I feel grateful to take away from this experience is a lesson learned from their style of life. They get by just fine with so little convenience, though it's certainly not out of choice, for the most part. But they have to appreciate what little water they get and make the best uses of it. Because they live with the reality of it being a limited resource. This is the reality of the matter, though in the USA we are able to live without facing this reality because of our opulence. I hope to be more mindful of what a blessing our abundance of resources truly is, and do my best to conserve what I have, and not to waste. 

PS. I hope this doesn't sound condescending or preachy. It's not intended that way. Living in a slum for a few days is nothing, and doesn't give me some enlightened perspective on life. I'm spoiled that I can go in and out at will, and experience it almost as another form of "vacation," though that's not the best word for it. I have no idea what it's like to really live in one of these places. I'm approaching it from the only perspective I really know - my own. I found it very powerful and just wanted to share how fascinating it was for me, as best I can explain it in such a short space.