Mindful observations in India lead to deep appreciation of Maine's natural intention

[Lisa V. Blake, Be A Good Apple]

As I prepare to head off for a month of teaching in India, I am reminded of many blessings here in Maine. We are able to choose eating healthy, conscientiously grown organic produce, to support a farmer's labor of love and invest in our good health. Even with our short growing season, we have the benefits of fertile soil, reasonable growing climate, usually with the right mix of rain and sunshine to pull off and up some amazing earth offerings.

The last time I was in India, staying at a hotel on the banks of the biggest river flowing into and through Delhi, I gazed from the rooftop at farmers working the soil. One might think it is fertile and rich, considering the location.

But the river and the land itself are so badly polluted, I cringe to think of how much toxin leeches into the produce these hardworking souls are able to cultivate. Descending from my perch to take a closer look at the scene, I had to hold my scarf over my nose as plastic pollution, human excrement (not seasoned sludge) and cow patties mixed in amongst the growing fields. Wild dogs and wild eyed children ran amidst this culinary caravan, seemingly oblivious to the stench and squalor of rubbish, decomposing animal parts, and overall fetid mess. I knew that the food my TIbetan hostel was dishing out was cooked with the greens that came from here. I had seen the exchange between the Nepali cook and the Indian farmer, but I ordered hot and took my chances.

I did not get ill from it, which with some cooking magic, actually was quite tasty. The nagging problem for me was following the flow of the food chain back to that sad source. The farmers live on the land under production, they seek shade from the mid-day sun under shanty make-shift tents, where they also sleep at night. They cook there, clean there, relieve their bowels, and do all of the other day-to-day living right on the fields. I witnessed a large festival replete with fireworks, drumming, dancing, and finally drowning of several garish plastic painted statues right in the river.

In India, "take me to the river" means that it is the life source where everything and anything can and does happen. While I appreciate the cultural significance, it makes me more thankful and grateful for the care and mindful maintenance we in Maine have been taking to clean and restore our watersheds, rivers, and ocean. I feel blessed to be returning to teach for a month at the Siddhartha School in the Himalayas, as well as for the opportunity to express gratitude for the care we take here in Maine.

Remarkably, some of the love that the people do hold deeply for the rivers in India must help on some level. After all, they continue to be able to eek a living from them as they have for millennia.