Sunday, November 24, 2013

Reflections upon Leaving Chennai


The gap between the upper and lower classes in India grows by the minute.  India’s burgeoning “middle class” accounts for the top earners in the country as half of its population still lives on less than two dollars per day.  The increasing economic disparity between the top and the bottom classes means an increasing disparity in quality of life.  The expectations of the upper classes increase as their purchasing power increases.  They begin to demand better hospitals, schools, cars, and homes.  The economically irrelevant lower classes do not have the influence that disposable income brings.  The conspicuous consumption of the upper classes serves as a daily reminder of their poverty.  To give my first-hand observations about the contrast between the lives of the upper class and lower class in India, I have four stories to share.


Chennai Mall Life: I have frequented the glossy Express Avenue mall in Chennai a number of times now. The structure rises six stories into the sky, filling the air with its frantic consumerism. Bright lights shine on sparkling saris, trendy Nike shoes, and a bustling KFC. India's middle and upper classes mill in and out of shops. Their expanding waistlines push them to shop at newly opened plus sized stores. From this enclave, India's social and economic problems seem far away. However, just across from the mall, tucked away behind stores, lie the corrugated roofs of a sprawling slum.


Hotel Opulence: In Pondicherry we stayed in a hotel in which surfaces gleamed with polished granite, glittered with crystal chandeliers, and shone with burnished ceilings. Every night the hotel hosted glamorous weddings. The guests chatted while wearing their best silk saris and sipping champagne. Outside the high gates of the hotel, however, a cloud of dirt and noise replaced the cool, clean air conditioning. Maneuvering around the buckling sidewalk and piles of trash outside, I was overwhelmed by the contrast between the hotel's spotless opulence and the unabashedly grimy poverty of the surrounding neighborhood.


The Privileged College Student: Every time I leave the sylvan enclave of MCC's middle class campus for the city I pass beggars who plead for money. They sit in piles of rags with festering wounds, amputated limbs, and raggedy hair, curled up against the battering flow of the passing foot traffic. Instinctually I want to help, but I have been told that any money I give will only attract unwanted attention. My fellow classmates have remarked in guilty tones how easy it is to ignore beggars. Even in Tamil Nadu, one of the most affluent of India's 28 states, abject poverty is normal.  For every day we spend here, Davidson's wide brick sidewalks and innocuously friendly townspeople fade from my mind as a new normal, the Indian normal, replaces them.


Beautification Projects: Sitting in my taxi on the way to a posh department store, a gypsy woman with a small baby approached my window. She made silent gestures from her mouth, to her baby, to me.  Her watery eyes bore into my own.  She is used to being ignored.  Her newly affluent middle class counterparts view her as an unsavory reminder of their former economic hardships. I have even seen many signs on hotels and restaurants telling passerbys that the establishment "reserves the rights of admission.” I take these signs to mean establishments will allow in only "appropriate" well-to-do customers and exclude the dirt-covered lower classes.


Resident Welfare Associations (RWAs) petition the government to eliminate slums from the neighborhood.  Since the slums are technically squatters, they should not legally live on the land.  However these largely selfish beautification campaigns have no intention of bettering the conditions of the poor. They move the poor to crowded tenements on the edge of the city or demolish the slum without advance notice. The upper class would rather beautify its city than solve any of its problems.  In the way that India's upper class wants to keep poverty out of site, India is very much like America.  America does a fantastic job of hiding its poverty.  Out of sight, out of mind, right?  In my hometown in Ohio I drove to school every day through a disaffected area of town, but the streets were always wide and clean with out a single homeless person in sight.


The gap between India's rich and poor is growing. The rich buy their fancy cars in air conditioned mega-malls and eat western food with abandon, while the poor live without clean water or toilets.  India’s prosperous accept this lifestyle gap as normal.  I must admit that I accept poverty as normal both in India and at home.  I cannot apportion blame upon others without recognizing my own faults. I ignore poverty in my own city and spend wildly while many of my countrymen have no disposable incomes, homes, or even clothes of their own.  Just because poverty is normal for America and India does not mean that the poor should continue to live in squalor.  In spite of their historical love of socialism, Indians today do not make much effort to redistribute wealth so that everyone might benefit from the country’s prosperity.  As long as pure capitalist morals (i.e. amorality) grip the growing middle class, the gap between the rich and the poor will continue to grow.  The gypsy woman will continue to beg.  The hotel in Pondicherry will host elaborate weddings.  The waistlines of the middle class will keep expanding, and India will continue along the same economic path for the foreseeable future.