uh-oh, I ran out of toilet paper-

I’m going to tell you the whole story, and it includes more than water, but I think you will see how it’s all connected:

Delhi tried to chew me up and spit me out in little pieces. Having a vague notion of who you are and what you stand for won’t cut it there because you will be tested, and when you leave you will be different from when you got there.

The heat and humidity are like magnets that pull all your energy away. People are everywhere. Garbage is everywhere. Honking horns take the place of traffic lights on the roads where there are cars, cows, motorized rickshaws, bicycle rickshaws, dogs, people, men pulling huge carts, and motorcycles.

The poverty is crushing. I know there is also wealth in Delhi, but I’m willing to bet the poor outnumber the rich, and not in a United States sort of way either. Poor here means actually, literally, without basic human necessities, poor. If I ever hear another poor person in the U.S complain from their home with 4 walls, a roof, running water, a stove, and food from the government to cook on it, I’m going to tell them what I saw here. Those that are poor here work. They are out hustling in the streets and laboring on community farms for food. I don’t know if they are happy, or if they are complaining, but the people I saw aren’t sitting at home waiting for their checks.




During my ride across town to the Center for Science & Environment (CSE) I fought tears, my throat hurting from the lump you get when you don’t want to cry. Wherever empty space was once found, it had been filled in by people living with giant pieces of plastic for roofs, or no roof at all. (There are estimated to be 10,000 people per square kilometer) Outside of gated high rises there were entire villages of people living on the fringe, even though they were in the middle of town. I couldn’t take a picture. I rode quietly through the city of over 15 million, my head filling with thoughts of problems that have no solutions.

I met with a man named Bharat Lal Seth at CSE. He co-wrote a 175-page report about the sewage problem in the Yamuna River, on the banks of which sets Delhi, eventually emptying into the Ganges. On the Delhi stretch, they have sewage treatment plants that are able to treat 2,330 million liters/day but they are only being utilized for about 60% of that. However, the sewage generated per day is about 4000 million liters! That’s just for those with plumbing though. Tent cities have no plumbing. Nor do they always have fresh water. Often, their sewage enters the river directly. Access disparities and sewage treatment are, in Bharat’s opinion, the primary problems concerning water in Delhi. Forget waterfront property on River Road. This river is so polluted that there is no waterfront market, and those that live nearby keep their river facing windows covered. In a recent one-year period, the faecal coliform (poop) exceeded bathing water standards 459,264 times (of course I bought the report: Babu & Seth, Sewage Canal: How to Clean the Yamuna, 2007).


It is the poor that are most affected because they often have to use this water for everything, but middle class people in Agra (where I am writing this) don’t drink the tap water because they can afford to buy clean water. The Taj Mahal is in Agra, right on the Yamuna, downstream from Delhi. Today I talked to a young man, and new friend, Nitesh, who studied chemistry in school. He told me the only thing they do with tap water is cook and bathe. His family’s drinking water is purchased from the government in those big containers we have at home on the water coolers for 20 rupees (about 40 cents). I had been down at the river all day taking pictures so I asked him about a few things. It turns out the people who live in the tent cities don’t always have a choice about the water they drink because they don’t always have 20 rupees. I watched people bathing in the river, next to cows wading, next to people doing laundry, next to the crematorium, next to people going to the bathroom on the banks. I thinks it’s safe to consider it a multi-use river!
Nitesh told me they are taught in school not to pollute the river but that it didn't matter because people still do it anyway. Everyone I have talked to here about the river has said right away how dirty the water is. Yet, people are still forced to use it. Think about that.


A series of events happened to me in Delhi that led to me being duped into spending 1450 rupees for a bus ticket that should have been 200 rupees, and 1600 rupees for a train ticket that should have been, at most 800 rupees. I was frustrated, mad, hot, tearful…wondering if I should just come home…..It seemed the same universe that led me here was laughing. I was on that bus thursday, with no air-conditioner, all the windows down, in the pouring rain. There were literally buckets set up to collect water that was coming in through the roof. My clothes were wet and I was told to set in the front compartment with the driver and his helper (the driver, a giant, turban covered man was absolutely father-like) where the engine also was. It was hot and reeked of gasoline. I exchanged emails on my phone with a new friend named Tom whom I met through a friend as a result of his previous travels to India. He had written me that I would come home a different person. When I told him I was having a hard time staying positive he told me to get quiet and to spend time with kids, among other things. I did get quiet. And not in a stop talking sort of way. How I thought and what I thought was being challenged. I turned on my Ipod to have an American reprieve from the sounds of India- and what song was playing? I fell into a burning ring of fire, by Johnny Cash. I had to laugh, and then I remembered why I’m here. And perspective matters. You don’t see who you are in the great times, you learn who you are when challenged. If the people in tent city are smiling, so shouldn’t I be? I am smiling now thinking of those hours on the bus. I am happy to be here, and completely grateful. And yesterday, I spent time with kids on the Yamuna River while their parents were doing laundry. They were laughing.


**I'm finding it difficult to upload pictures in any real quantity here. I have over 100 on my facebook page, which I have made public if you want to see them. Go to facebook.com and put in Angie Wise. It should pull me up.