As soon as we walked out the door, it was immediately evident that we were in a place quite different from our home. It was after 3:00 in the morning, and while at that hour, one might expect the quiet solitude of the middle of the night, there was nothing sleepy or quiet about the Delhi airport. Throngs of people pressed against the crowd-control barrier, some holding signs with their charge’s name on them, others shouting out to those exiting the airport. Cars clogged the area assigned for pick up and the air was filled with a symphony of honking horns. It was a miracle that we were able to locate Ron’s daughter, Alex, who was in the mix of people waiting for their passengers.
It was chaos, and it was not regulated to the airport. For the ten days we were in India, we experienced an amazing energy that comes from an abundance of human activity, one that was foreign to these two coastal and mid-western natives. To say that Delhi is a crowded city is an understatement. It is estimated that just over 18.5 million people live there. Compare that to the 7 million that live in the entire San Francisco Bay Area and you’ll get a sense as to how many people are in Delhi.
It was one of the most alive places I have ever been. Life was lived out in the open, everywhere. Every street was a path for many. Every restaurant had the chatter and laughter of communion. Every public venue was an opportunity for fellowship. Mixed right in to these joyful experiences were situations of heart-breaking poverty. While the homeless on our own streets are (for the most part) adults, at least the visible ones, those on the streets of Delhi were children. Beautiful, tender, wide-eyed children eagerly grabbing a bottle of water we offered because they had no access to clean drinking water or quickly taking the crackers we offered because they were hungry. My step-daughter has the good fortune of being able to speak Hindi and she would engage each child directly, asking their name and about their wellbeing, and almost without exception, coaxing a smile out of each one before they ran off to be with the other children.
In the midst of this chaos, in the midst of crowded streets, in the midst of children without enough, every person we met greeted us as old friends. Whether it was someone who had us over for dinner or someone who was simply driving us across town, each person welcomed us with an open heart. I was reminded of the families in our own community who come from India and how warm and embracing they are. In Delhi, with so many people and seemingly not enough resources, one might expect a lot of sorrow. While I am sure there is sorrow in the face of poverty, alongside the suffering is also the joy of living. The two are held in tension and the beautiful people of Delhi, the impoverished and the privileged and the in between, embrace all of life.
I am privileged to live without extreme want, and too often, I take advantage of the conveniences that weave through my life. I forget that a life of ease does not equate to a life well-lived, that instead, it is the ability to embrace all of life – the chaos and the calm, the sorrow and the joy – that amounts to a life well-lived. Being in India and meeting so many open-hearted people reminded me that it is the human-to-human connection rather than the stuff we accumulate or the space we carve out for ourselves that creates the life that God calls each one of us to – a life of abundant relationships and love.
~Lori+