I've also learned that life is worth living pretty much everywhere. No matter where you go, the stuff that really matters is available for the earning: good food, pleasing weather, kind people, fulfilling work, expresive art, growing love, deep thought, and the subtle presense of divinity. The burdens that I had imagined as unbearably heavy aren't so hard on the people who live here. I've learned that as an American I am spoiled and weak. From the soles of my feet, to the strength of my stomach, to willpower of my mind, there are a million things that would overwhelm me that Indians cheerfully do every day. While there are certainly a host of people in this world suffering under the cruel hands of heartless greed, and plenty of people who don't have access to the wonderful things that make life worth living, I've learned that the world is not yet choked by despair. Joy still runs laughing through the jungles of Mysore, the fields of Tenali, and even the dirty streets of Chennai.
It doesn't take the quality of life that we have in the west to make people smile and savor life. It does make me wonder why we work so hard for it in the US though. What does it really gain us? Why do we work so hard, when what we want is the same as everyone else, when the things we're trying to buy are for sale in the market for 50 rupees (about $1)? Wives, children, friends, and prayer are free. Good books, paint and curry are nearly free.
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