Putting Me in My Place

A while back, I was visiting some of my friends in the dalit colony. I was invited into Saritha's house, and I accepted the invitation gladly. I had been to Saritha's before, and, each time, the same questions came to mind. That day was no different. Sitting there in her living room with her baby boy, Goudem, standing on my lap and playing with my hair, I wondered for about the thousandth time why Saritha's house was so much larger and nicer than the rest of the houses in the community.

Although they are all faced with many of the same harsh realities, there is great diversity even among the families within the dalit colony. Some of the homes they live in are a single room made of rotting wood and covered in tarp, while others are several rooms made of sturdy brick and concrete. As you walk down the little streets, each house is different. But Saritha's house stands out among them all. It is, first of all, made of that sturdy brick and concrete - much more expensive than the spare wood used for so many of the walls and roofs of the houses down the street. And it's big - two stories, actually, with plenty of room for her two growing children. By American standards, Saritha and her family are very poor; but by dalit standards, she has an awful lot.

We got to talking about life in the colony, and she began to tell me many things both about her own life and the lives of her neighbors. She talked about what some of the husbands did to make their money. Some of them repair shoes and umbrellas and get, on average, about 100 days of work per year. Not enough. Others work in construction, which is slightly more profitable but still unreliable. It was hard to take this all in, and I was feeling a bit overwhelmed. But the day's biggest shock was yet to come...

Saritha got around to talking about her own husband then. "My family is lucky," she said. Her husband has a reliable job, and he is paid well. "He makes 5,000 rupees a month," she went on proudly. "Wow," I replied, but not because that's a lot of money.

In fact, 5,000 rupees is only about 115 American dollars. But the shocking part was not that they were living on only that much per month (and in this nice house). The shocking part was that I am living on nearly that much each month. As a volunteer, I receive a monthly stipend of $100, or 4,300 rupees. I don't spend it all each month, but I have a few times and the others I've come close. And that is without having to pay for a roof over my head and food on my table, not to mention two growing children. I was shocked. I'm a volunteer, and I, alone, am making nearly as much money as the most well-off family in the colony. I don't think Saritha understood why my mood changed just then, and I don't think I'll ever be able to tell her how, in her very living room with her precious baby bouncing on my lap, I really got put in my place.