true life planet

It’s been an incredibly full day today.

I started the day out looking around for a different hotel–which was more difficult than you might think.

Going into dive after dive, with cockroaches crawling about and rat poop in the hall way did not encourage me in my quest. Yet, I was determined to find a “better deal”, tired of trying to get a cheaper price on my room that I currently have, so I kept on.

The hotel that finally had be give up my search was named the Something Something Guesthouse, and seemed to be run by an old blind man who would be sleeping on a piece of cardboard outside my door–if I liked the room, that is.

I didn’t like it. It was absolutely filthy, and I imagined that I would soon have scabies and lice and who knows what else after a few nights of sleeping there.

With a sigh, I wandered back to my hotel. I guess I’ll be staying there, in spite of the fact that they are charging me too much.

On the plus side, it has five windows, with actual shutters and curtains(which I never saw as a luxury before looking elsewhere).

It also has a locked cabinent for my things (other hotels with a lower price didn’t have these either)

A chair and a table (definitely luxuries–most just had a bed)

A bathroom with an actual door, a toilet that actually flushes and is not a “squat toilet” but a normal Western style toilet (most hotels did not have even have a toilet /bathroom inside the room..you had to go out into the hallway and you had to share it, too..with complete strangers)

A sink with actual running water!

A bucket shower, with hot water on demand,

and best of all..

I feel safe there. There are so many employees, that the leather bench outside my door always has someone on it. The office is right outside my door too, so no ones going to sneak into my room..even if they cold make it past the big padlock.

After seeing all these other places this morning that were slimy, filthy, vermin infested and unsecure..I went back to my hotel, and decided despite the slight overcharge, I didn’t care. It’s worth it.

In India, I have decided, it’s not worth it to pick away at smaller battles when there are more important things to worry oneself over. Don’t sweat the small stuff (of which there is alot!)

In the afternoon, my journey here began to take more form and substance at last–no longer a tourist, I finally made it over to the Motherhouse, Mother Theresa’s Missionaries of Charity headquarters.

On arriving, I was let into the cool concrete courtyard, by a tiny nun wearing glasses who was from China. Wearing her white habit with blue trim, she was the picture of grace and gentleness, and she motioned me to sit on one of the cool benches in the shade.

I told her I was there to volunteer, and she told me to wait for her–that she would be going to the home for orphaned children next door in about 20 minutes (that’s where they do the orientation and give assignments).

I sat back and enjoyed the cool air inside the courtyard. The air in here seeemd cleaner and cooler than out on the street–and it probably was, as the high concrete walls served for more uses than just privacy.

The walls were painted a dove gray and pale lemon yellow, and everything was so clean–so much different than just a few feet outside it’s walls. The only decoration was a wooden carving of Jesus and a shrine to Mary, who was coered in garlands of marigolds and surrounded in potted plants.

In complete constast with this shrine and scene of clean, religious piety, was a bicycle that stood parked in the corner. It’s owner had decorated the fenders with cut outs from magazines, the two most prominent were a Bollywood actress wearing a red strapless evening gown, and a huge picture of Chuck Norris, whose photo was surrounded in beading and sequins.

That’s India for you!

Several nuns were sitting in the courtyard, all reading. One was from Sri Lanka, and she was reading a book called, “The Power of Affirmation”. Another nun from Ireland was reading ” The Herald”, an English newspaper. Another nun, this one from Japan, was reading a book titled,” Living Your Life To The Fullest”.

One thing I immediately noticed was that the nuns were from every country in the world. They crossed all boundaries and borders. They were of every nationality in the world; they were every shape and size; they were of every age.

A small nun had been assigned to answer the door, and as people came and went, she was the one to answer the bell. It seemed like the bell rang every 5 minutes.

A group of well dressed (although completely inappropriately dressed for India’s conservative dress code for women) American women showed up with ags of donations, all clothes and medicines.

A group of school children showed up, wearing pixie haircuts and purplish gray uniforms, white blouses that had lost their brightness from too many washings, burgundy bow ties…and flip flops.

A crew of Indian men came in and then went out again, carrying huge bundles of launry in brightly colored cloths on top of their heads.

Visitors came and went constantly from around the globe. Some had volunteered before and were just coming back to say hello;some were first time volunteers like me; some just came to see the tomb ovf Mother Theresa.

Many people did not come to volunteer, but just to look at the place. One girl from France told me that she, ” Couldn’t handle volunteering, doing that kind of work”, so she was just stopping off to see the tomb before heading on to Darjeeling.

I’ve met alot of Westerners like that here. Not just people who don’t have any interest in volunteering , actually–but people who don’t approve of Mother Theresa’s work. None of them had even stepped in and volunteered for a day, done the work, seen if it made any positive impact. Some people are very harsh on Mother Theresa’s organization without ever even getting a taste of what it’s like to volunteer with the Sisters.

This morning when I met two travelers who were on their way to an ashram and were very negative about Mother Theresa, I said to them, ” But if the Sisters were not doing this work, who would be doing it?”

They answered with silence. The answer is, no one would be. That’s why they do it.

But I digress.

After waitng around for awhile, we all went over to the children’s orphanage and got our orientation. We also had to decide where we wanted to be assigned.

There were various places to be assigned: one could work with children, one could work with babies, one could work with entally ill people, one could work with very ill people, and of course the dying of Calcutta.

I could not make up my mind where to go. I had come here to be of service, but I felt like my fears might have more of a role in deciding where I would choose than where I might be of most use. So, I decided to let the Sisters decide for me.

They decided I am going to Daya Dan. This is a home for mentally retarded, autistic, and severely disabled children. The children who are there often die in the home, as many have significant health problems.Unlike some of the other chidren in the Sister’s care, these children are not adoptable.

So I will be working with kids! (Unless they put me somewhere else, which I have heard they do every once in awhile!)

Also in the home is a dispensary, which is open to the public two days a week. I will be helping there, wrapping injured people in bandages and doing some basic health work (like I’ve done in othe rcountries on this trip).

I’m happy about this choice. I think it suits me.

Tomorrow is my first day on the job. We go to mass at the Motherhouse at 6am, then we all eat breakfast together at 7am, and then all the volunteers go off to their respective stations.

My job is all the way across town, so I will have to manage the metro and maybe have to take a rickshaw, too. Luckily there is a group of us going, so I won’t have to figure it all out on my own.

Work starts at 8 am, until 12 noon, and then starts up again at 3pm, until 5:30pm.

We work everyday but Thursday, and on Saturdays we can go to wash street children at the train station for the first half of the day.

I’d better go to bed!

 gigi

PS  …I’m..so happy to be here…doing this. One thing I really like is that here, I have met some like minded people. It’s an amazing experience to meet and talk to other people who have set aside a period of their lives aside to be here, to be of service to others. It’s so refreshing to be around and it invigorates me for the coming months, knowing that I’m working with some people who have also decided to amke a difference in this way. Some of the women who are volunteering for a long time here (one is here for 3 years and it’s her second time!) have decided to meet once a week and talk about our experiences and hopefully create a spiritual support group of sorts in the process. It’s tough and exhausting work, so I think having a group of people to rely on and talk to is going to make it a bit easier.

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