Under the Macroscope

It is no secret that India is vast. There were 1.21 billion people at the time of the 2011 census, and the population continues to grow. It is the second largest country in the world in terms of population and the seventh largest in terms of geographical area. There are 28 states, 22 national languages, and 844 dialects. It is also the world’s largest democracy. Mumbai serves as a microcosm (if such a term is indeed possible for a city of such size) of India’s vastness, with around 21 million people. To put these numbers into perspective, the U.S. has around 315 million people and Chicago 2.7 million.

The vastness and diversity of India is most easily understood in the crush of people everywhere at all times in the city. This has been driven home especially keenly over the past few days as we have explored Mumbai more and more. On Friday we had the privilege of going to a popular, predominately Muslim district for the nightly breaking of the Ramadan fast. My senses were pleasantly overwhelmed by the hanging lights, sumptuous smells of roasting meats, and sounds of celebration. More potent than anything else, though, was the press of bodies on all sides as we walked through the streets. When walking with the flow we could have lifted our feet and been safely carried along. 

This feeling was replicated today as a friend and I tried out a city bus. We thought that we were squeezed on as tightly as humanly possible. Then the bus broke down. Then the majority of our riders, including us, climbed onto another bus and merged our bodies with those already packing the rescue bus to bursting.

I had experienced this sensation in Sri Lanka with the YAV crew, but it’s one of those that cannot be justly recalled without renewed experience! Bodies and clothes begin to soak. Odors from upraised arms mingle and create something new and miraculously better. Centers of gravity tip and shift as one. Muscles spasm together. And there is somehow always more room for people to get on the bus.

I treasure these experiences and their consistent confrontation with the idea of “space” that we have in the United States--an idea that we should critically engage to gauge its effects on our human interactions and our understandings of community. For the purposes of this blog, though, these experiences serve as perhaps a flippant introduction to a question that has been filling the crevices of my mind just as our bodies filled the crevices of that bus. How can we even comprehend the sheer mass of humanity in our world, let alone contribute to urgently needed transformation in the midst of it?

This question is especially relevant to the country of India, as individuals, organizations, and governments seek to cope with what it means to nourish and create a just system for so many people. It is also relevant for us, however, as we have obviously failed to do so in our much smaller country. Further, we are part of an ever growing world on a finite planet. It is a question that begs an answer in the realms of social work and theology and at that hugely important intersection of the two. It is a question that will continue to grow in significance. It is a question whose responses must be polychromatic and not monolithic. It is a question that can easily spiral into despair. It is a question for which I have great hope. It is a question for which I have no answer.

Will you join me in pondering it?

3 Years Later

A big smile twitched the corners of my lips when an elevator version of “Memory” from Cats started playing as I waited those long moments to see if they would approve of my documents and let me into the country. At first I thought of the smile as one of amusement at hearing such a song so far away. As some of you may know, though, musical theater sings to my heart…and the real reason for the smile was that this song captured the moment perfectly--my senses, my cognitions, my emotions, my spirit. I was standing immersed in memories. This is my first time to Mumbai, and to be sure it is a unique city with enough people to dwarf many countries. It is a place wholly different from my second home in Kerala. Yet, the rain, the humidity, the food smells, the press of people, the car horns, and even the gigantic billboards for once-familiar products call out to me.

The journey from the airport to the TATA Institute of Social Sciences at 2:00am was at once serene and shocking. The gracious driver who picked me up flew through traffic, missing other cars, people, and dogs by mere centimeters. A part of me urged to scream in fear and exhilaration. Another part, though, knew from memory that all would be well. My prayer is that I can maintain this tension healthily throughout my time in Mumbai--exhilaration at new (and close!) encounters and peace in the feeling of being in a place that sings to my heart.

I am here in Mumbai as part of my social work studies with the University of Chicago’s School of Social Service Administration. I will be in the city for four weeks studying community practice and response to poverty and marginalization through class work and field work. Afterwards I will spend some time visiting my Kerala family. Stay tuned for more as I process the experiences to come!