Untouchable by Nadia Kamrath

In the beautiful countryside of northern India, where the mother Ganges River flows, lays the small holy city of Rishikesh. This is the city of yoga, the city of prayer, and the city of meditation. Cows entwine the roads as people flood by. Motorcycles weave in and out of the busy streets. Past the noise and up a windy road lies a village. A village of trash.

We drove down the winding road as the trees loomed above us. Twisting and turning until we came to a pile of trash … a pile so big it covered acres of land. Surrounding it lay small structures, shakily balanced upon one another and bound together with rocks, tarps and garbage. In this sea of trash, lived people. Real people.

These are the “untouchables” … the scavengers who live in the trash. Every day they hunt through the piles, trying to find something they can sell. Nobody cares about them; nobody knows about them … they are India’s dirty secret.

I stepped outside of the car in awe. How is it possible that anyone has to live like this? I couldn't believe my eyes. We walked among the homes, trying to no avail to avoid the piles of human waste and garbage. A small body of foul water sat at our feet. This is their main water source.

We began our mission to gather all the children. They followed behind us like a parade, rambling through the filth. Every single child was wearing a huge smile. And even though my heart felt heavy, I was smiling. Amidst these horrible conditions, these kids have the biggest hearts I’ve ever seen.

Upon arriving at the village, I felt under the weather but as I walked with the children, it was as if something took over my body. I felt energized, wanting to help in any way I could. We walked together to the one water pump which had been taken over by the slum lords and began to pump water for the children to wash their hands and faces. They soaped and splashed and laughed with joy. We then made our way back to the entrance of the slums and they lined up waiting to receive the food we brought to share with them. Their smiles warmed my heart.

I quickly began to fill their outstretched shirts until they overflowed with food … samosas, fruit, juice boxes and biscuits. This was probably the first time they’ve received more food than they could carry. It was incredible. We worked and worked until every single one of them had a full belly. Every one.

As we got ready to leave, I waved to all the children, smiling and shaking their hands. I stepped onto the bus, still smiling at the kids who’d gathered. A little hand came from around the bus door, which was still open. Inside the fingers lay a small ring.

I couldn’t believe my eyes. This little darling girl who has absolutely nothing, just handed me her most valuable possession. My mind immediately thought, “I can’t take this. I can’t. She has nothing.” She insisted as the driver translated her words, “You keep it, you must keep it.” So, I took her beautiful ring.

For as long as I live, I will keep this ring as a reminder …. a reminder that people who don't have anything can still be generous, kind, and filled with joy. She and the other kids taught me that joy doesn’t come from what we have. Our possessions are not what makes us happy. Giving is where true joy lies. In India, these children are known as the “untouchables” but they have touched my heart in a way I will never forget.