Two years ago, the Charles River was officially re-declared safe for swimming. It was a major milestone in the decades long effort to clean up the polluted waterway, marked by a major populist movement within the Boston community that garnered significant support from our state's progressive government. The river used to be the bane of Boston, the "dirty water" we all loved but was truly a result of over-pollution. Yet the restoration of the major waterway, an iconic image of Massachusetts, proves that such clean-ups can indeed be done. It shows that even the most waste filled rivers can be reverted to a point where swimming does not equal hospitalization.
The Yamuna River, that flows through Delhi, is one of these rivers. For decades, sewage and industrial waste have been dumped (and continue to be dumped) into the river with unfortunate enthusiasm. Few living things can survive in the toxic water these days. The proud water used to be the city's provider. It gave fish to eat, water to drink, and a place to bathe. Now it just smells.
If it used to be a symbol of Delhi's beauty and prosperity, the Yamuna has become the symbol of Delhi's growing pollution. Larger than that, it is a symbol of what India has become. A haze lingers over the country, engulfing sunsets. The dank odors of the street soak in the hot sun and overwhelm the nostrils. Delhi contains some of the greatest architecture on the globe, from is Mughal monuments to its Hindu and Sikh temples and mosques. Yet the pollution has the ability to transcend that beauty and take over the senses.
This evening we attended a "discussion" of a book by Sarandha Jain, titled In Search of the Yamuna: Reflections of a River Lost. We sat in an air conditioned room and listened to respected Delhi intellectuals discuss what could be done to solve the problem facing the Yamuna. What struck me most was Sarandha's comment that a restored belief in the community and beauty of nature was the answer. What angered me was the stubborn resistance of these so-called intellectuals to believe it.
"To save nature we need to know it personally," she said.
There is an undeniable truth in this, and in this undeniable truth lies what I believe to be the answer: education. It seemed to me, listening to the stuffy men around the room talk in their loud pessimistic voices, that the problem at heart was not modernity but rather the loss of a once powerful connection. Sarandha used the native tribe's spiritual connection to the river as the answer to save it. Yet I'm not sure spiritualism is necessary to save the Yamuna. It's logic. A river can provide us with everything. In much of our own country, rivers have become a primary source of food, water, and power. Without the Colorado the west coast would not exist. The U.S. treated our own rivers much the same during industrialization, and many of them are still heavily polluted with industrial waste. But, with enough effort and resources, a clean up has been proven possible. Yet, in a country focused more on catching up with the first world, is this ever possible? While it happened in Boston, a perfect representation of what "first world" has come to mean, can it happen in a place without certain post-industrial luxuries?
That is why education is the key. Not just in India, but in the United States and the rest of the world too. Humans have an incredible ability to learn and a curiosity that can never be satisfied. If we stimulate an interest in the environment, in community, if we foster it from a young age, than society will change with the new generation. We need to know nature personally, we need to understand the world that we live in beyond how to use it as a tool. The only way to teach this ideal is to preach it in schools, to show the youngest how vital each component of our biosphere is. Right now this level of education exists nowhere, not even in our own country, and yet it is so simple, so possible that it gives me migraines. I have been lucky enough to grow up surrounded by nature in varying degrees. And yet, whether the jungle be a lush green or concrete, there is beauty everywhere waiting to be discovered. We just have to open our eyes, and be willing to share. Community is a wonderful thing.
The Yamuna River, that flows through Delhi, is one of these rivers. For decades, sewage and industrial waste have been dumped (and continue to be dumped) into the river with unfortunate enthusiasm. Few living things can survive in the toxic water these days. The proud water used to be the city's provider. It gave fish to eat, water to drink, and a place to bathe. Now it just smells.
If it used to be a symbol of Delhi's beauty and prosperity, the Yamuna has become the symbol of Delhi's growing pollution. Larger than that, it is a symbol of what India has become. A haze lingers over the country, engulfing sunsets. The dank odors of the street soak in the hot sun and overwhelm the nostrils. Delhi contains some of the greatest architecture on the globe, from is Mughal monuments to its Hindu and Sikh temples and mosques. Yet the pollution has the ability to transcend that beauty and take over the senses.
This evening we attended a "discussion" of a book by Sarandha Jain, titled In Search of the Yamuna: Reflections of a River Lost. We sat in an air conditioned room and listened to respected Delhi intellectuals discuss what could be done to solve the problem facing the Yamuna. What struck me most was Sarandha's comment that a restored belief in the community and beauty of nature was the answer. What angered me was the stubborn resistance of these so-called intellectuals to believe it.
"To save nature we need to know it personally," she said.
There is an undeniable truth in this, and in this undeniable truth lies what I believe to be the answer: education. It seemed to me, listening to the stuffy men around the room talk in their loud pessimistic voices, that the problem at heart was not modernity but rather the loss of a once powerful connection. Sarandha used the native tribe's spiritual connection to the river as the answer to save it. Yet I'm not sure spiritualism is necessary to save the Yamuna. It's logic. A river can provide us with everything. In much of our own country, rivers have become a primary source of food, water, and power. Without the Colorado the west coast would not exist. The U.S. treated our own rivers much the same during industrialization, and many of them are still heavily polluted with industrial waste. But, with enough effort and resources, a clean up has been proven possible. Yet, in a country focused more on catching up with the first world, is this ever possible? While it happened in Boston, a perfect representation of what "first world" has come to mean, can it happen in a place without certain post-industrial luxuries?
That is why education is the key. Not just in India, but in the United States and the rest of the world too. Humans have an incredible ability to learn and a curiosity that can never be satisfied. If we stimulate an interest in the environment, in community, if we foster it from a young age, than society will change with the new generation. We need to know nature personally, we need to understand the world that we live in beyond how to use it as a tool. The only way to teach this ideal is to preach it in schools, to show the youngest how vital each component of our biosphere is. Right now this level of education exists nowhere, not even in our own country, and yet it is so simple, so possible that it gives me migraines. I have been lucky enough to grow up surrounded by nature in varying degrees. And yet, whether the jungle be a lush green or concrete, there is beauty everywhere waiting to be discovered. We just have to open our eyes, and be willing to share. Community is a wonderful thing.
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