Description

There must be a shortage of garbage trucks and paint in India. I've only visited seven cities - just a drop in the bucket. But, so far, everything looks like it could use a good tidying-up and a vigorous scrubbing. 

Garbage lines the streets - probably because it's next to impossible to find a trash bin. Every day I see men urinating on public spaces. The sacred cow figures into the equation; I've jumped over my share of cow patties. The other day, I walked by a dead dog - rotting and putrid right there on the sidewalk. 

I haven't noticed litter to be such an outstanding issue in other countries. Morocco, by contrast, was spotless - cleaner than the California desert... OK, no bragging rights there.

With 1.4 billion people, seems there is enough of a workforce here to perform those tasks. Folks are eager to work and make money - just ask the Jaipur cabbies. Maybe they could clean it up.

But what do I know? I am the Ugly American.

Let me not be so quick to judge. The issue probably isn't a lack of willing hands; it's got to be more complex than that. Maybe it's bureaucracy. Maybe it's corruption. Maybe it's just that cow charisma - those big eyes that let them get away with murder. Who knows?

I realize that I'm walking around with my own very limited Western sensibilities. Is passing an orange peel on the sidewalk really that heinous? Maybe cleanliness here is not about the spotless street. Maybe it's about that spotless soul. Maybe cleanliness is next to Godliness. Or maybe that’s the point: it’s messy, it’s wild, it’s real. 

Maybe every wall is a urinal.

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