I’d hate to see what the Harlem of Jaipur looks like

First, an apology: I managed to get sick. AGAIN. No stomach problems this time, just an intense fever and general aches. It’s passed now, but it kept me busy for a while. (Meaning: it kept me buried under multiple blankets in 84-degree heat for a while.)

Second, some appreciation: Last week I received a care package from Matthew and some letters from my mother and it was wonderful. Both of them sent pictures and cards, and in the box from Matthew there was home-baked cookies, lots of dried fruits, Nutella, and SOFT TOILET PAPER. Now I know I am loved. And as Matthew pointed out, I’ll think of him every time I wipe my butt with the plush goodness that is American toilet paper.

On the afternoon that I was walking home from school with that package, it had just rained and the streets were wet and puddley. There is a corner by our house where there is a community piss pot, I think I’ve mentioned this, the olfactory nightmare in which men pee at all hours of the day and night. Next to this is a dumpster, whose trash is more often on the ground than in the dumpster, and around which dogs, pigs, and people tend to gather, picking through the trash. As I walked pass this corner on the day that I received my present in the mail, I saw a puddle from the recent rain nestled in the midst of a rather wide pile of trash.  And in the middle of this filthy puddle, with garbage floating all around it, an enormously fat pig was wallowing gleefully. The scene was perfect: the heavy stench of urine and waste and largest pig I have ever seen wallowing in filthy water surrounded by garbage. I thought to myself, This is India. My entire trip can be summed up by this one scene. And I still regret that my hands were too full to get out my camera and take a picture.

In one of our dinner conversations about how we don’t really have to worry about terrorist bombs, someone pointed out that our school and our house is in the “Fifth Avenue” of Jaipur. Or the “Upper East Side” of Jaipur. We apparently live in a classy neighborhood. Who knew? From the harassment, stench, filth, garbage, human waste, poverty, beggars, dirt, dust, trash, and sewage, I would not have imagined our neighborhood to be one of the upper-class neighborhoods of Jaipur. I will never, ever, EVER take for granted again my nice clean street in Madison, with its functioning sewer and water, electricity that runs consistently, and a notable lack of livestock roaming the streets. Never.