Bucket list? CHECK!
You can’t tell it from the picture, but I have goosebumps. I’m not particularly interested in architecture, but I can say that the Taj Mahal is the most stunning building I have ever seen. The Taj Mahal was built between 1632 and 1648 by Mughal Emperor Shah Jahan for his recently deceased third wife Mumtaz Mahal. Both she and the Emperor are buried underneath the Taj, in a crypt which is not open to the public. The reality is that wikipedia can tell you a lot more about the Taj than I can, so if you want the history go here. I spent 12 hours in Agra (the city in which the Taj is located) and I couldn’t get tired of looking at the Taj Mahal and photographing it from every possible angle. I spent 4 hours on a rooftop cafe watching the sun set on the Taj while I wrote oodles of postcards and letters and watched a potbellied man in his underwear chase monkeys off his clothesline. There is no such thing as privacy or personal space in India unless you have a lot of money. For example, I arrived in Agra by a train which left Delhi at 6am. As the sun rose I watched as village after village went by my window. In the fields outside of every village next to the train tracks I saw hundreds of Indians pooping. It was astonishing- like the entire rural population had come to the consensus that 6:45am was national defecation time, trains or no trains. Men, women, kids, even cows.
The entrance to Tamu Nagar
My trip to Agra and the Taj Mahal was one of the most stunning examples of the economic inequality I’ve seen here. The day before I went to the Taj Mahal I was in a Muslim Slum in south Delhi called Tamu Nagar, seen in the next few images. There are no toilets in Tamu Nagar and people go to bathroom on the trash heaps behind their houses. As a result there are flies everywhere. There’s no control of water so sometimes the area is flooded and sometimes the only water is that which is brought in on rickety two-wheeled carts by hawkers. Malaria is rampant, and Dengue is beginning to hit the community as it is Dengue season in Delhi now. Kids are almost universally infested with head lice which their mothers patiently pick out during the afternoons, louse by louse and nit by nit. Houses have brick and/or cement walls with corrugated tin roofs. While most of these shacks are connected to electricity, the electricity works only a couple of hours a day. When it does work women have to be extra careful around ceiling fans. The fans are attached to the low ceilings which are forehead height for many women. One woman I met has a jagged scar across her forehead from a time when she got too close to the fan. 
I have spent my time in India (which, incredibly, will end in 8 days) working with women’s microfinance groups in communities like Tamu Nagar. Despite the challenges that they face- most families can afford only 2 meals a day- these women are not only cheerful but working to change their living conditions. Every month they save 200 rupees (4 USD) that goes into their group’s bank account. They can loan money among one another from this general pot of cash with an interest rate of 1 rupee for every 50 rupees loaned. Women take out loans when a member of the family gets sick and they need to buy medication, when their houses need repairs, to pay for weddings (a huge expense in India) or to buy presents for their husbands. The organizations that set up these microfinance groups ideally want women to invest their money in sustainable businesses. So far this has been difficult, if not impossible partially due to a lack of skills training and basic education (virtually all of the women are illiterate) and partially due to the fact that it is culturally unacceptable for the women to leave their communities. They leave very rarely, and always in the company of a man. Below are some of the women with whom I work.
I’ll be honest- I hope that the juxtaposition of these images disturbs you. How is it possible that there is so much extreme beauty and money and yet so much extreme poverty and misery in the same place? I live in a world of comparative extravagance and luxury here, and yet I work in some of the poorer areas (nope they’re not even the poorest) in Delhi. My daily commute makes my head spin. And the icky part of it is the relief I feel when I arrive back in my apartment at the end of the day with my fresh fruit and clean shower and wifi connection that occasionally works. Had fate or God or chance worked differently I could be the one living in Tamu Nagar scraping together $4 in savings every month dreaming of a better life. Instead, I leave India in 8 days. I’ll travel to Nepal for 5 days and then on to Cape Town, South Africa for 3 months.
I will miss Delhi and India- I have made some amazing friends here and met so many extraordinary people, especially the women with whom I have been so privileged to work. Thank you, from the bottom of my heart, for sharing so much with me and opening my eyes and heart to so much.You have taught me that there can be dignity even in poverty, hope even in illness, and peace even in crowds of thousands. You have taught me to examine where I am and not where I am going. You have shattered my expectations and shown me a reality far more extraordinary than anything I could have ever imagined.
A Corner in Time 