Kolkata

We just returned early Sunday morning after our 10 day trip and almost 24 hours of traveling on a bumpy road filled with potholes. I haven’t been able to use the internet so I wrote my blogs in my journal. I decided to split these into three entries. I apologize for the length; I hope you don’t find them too long and overwhelming. The first half of the trip was spent in Kolkata and the last half was in Bhubaneswar and Puri.

To begin with Kolkata - The city itself is extremely crowded, noisy and polluted. My initial thought was how much it looked (and smelled) like Tijuana, Mexico. When we first got there we had a little interview with a priest named Fr. Sarto. He is also a journalist and wanted to write an article about us in his magazine to encourage the youth of India to do some service among the poor. After about an eleven hour bumpy bus ride the night before and no shower, we somehow managed to pull ourselves together and share some thoughts with him. He asked us about our motivation in coming to India, our experiences while here, our faith and our interactions with the youth thus far.

We stayed in a hotel on Sudder Street (a somewhat sketchy area but none-the-less where all foreigners stay when they come to volunteer). We met up with a guy from Seattle University that we met on the flight from SeaTac. He was with a group of almost 10 others. We spent some time sharing stories and experiences of the past couple months here in India. Their experiences in the big city have been drastically different than our experiences in the small rural town of Raiganj.

We volunteered at Nirmal Hriday in Kalighat – The home for the sick and dying. When Pope John Paul II traveled to Kolkata to visit Kalighat, he called it “…a place of suffering, a house familiar with anguish and pain, a home for the destitute and dying…but at the same time, a place of hope, a house built on courage and faith, a home where love reigns, a home filled with love…” I had to add in that quote because I feel like it’s a very beautiful way of describing the place. To be perfectly honest with you, I don’t think I’m totally capable of describing the place or the experience myself. It was pretty overwhelming in many ways.

First we helped wash dishes and wash endless amounts of dirty clothes (a process including about 10 volunteers). While we were doing laundry – hand washing one article of clothing at a time, I looked up as a body was being carried out of the room with a sheet over it. It was then that I had a small mental and emotional shock as I realized what I was in for. While washing the clothes and chatting with a volunteer from Australia, my eyes kept wandering over to a man (bed #30) right outside the washroom lying in pain on his bed. He was the only patient I could see from inside. Then as I finished in the washroom I walked out to help with the patients. As I was walking out, the man (#30) had tubes in his mouth and one of the sisters and two women volunteers were on their knees by the bed praying. I too knelt down next to them and joined them in prayer as tears began to fill my eyes. It was only a couple minutes before the man died. As I walked away into the female ward of patients, I felt completely overwhelmed and a little helpless, unsure of what to do. In a room filled with so much pain and suffering, what do I do? Who do I go to? I felt like I was thrown into the ocean with no ability to swim. Basically we were thrown in a hospital of about 100 extremely sick and dying patients with absolutely no training or medical background (or emotional preparation) to help us out.

One lady was motioning me toward her and she kept putting her hand to her heart and then to my face. I sat down with her and held her hand for awhile. Then she bowed in thanks and motioned to me to the rest of the room. So I walked around and stopped at different women and held their hands and tried to comfort them in their immense pain and suffering. I tried my best to offer a smile to each patient, but I found it difficult. The sights were heartbreaking and quite indescribable. I also helped distribute medicines to the patients. One of the sisters would give me some medicine and tell me the bed number of the patient to take it to, and I would go and get a glass of water and take the meds to the patient. Some were too weak to sit up and needed a lot of help to get the medicine in the mouth but they were all so happy to see the medicine coming their way. The sisters then had us take lunch to the patients. The first plate I took to patient #53 - I realized that she was unable to feed herself so I sat with her and did the best I could. I think she also may have been blind; I’m not sure. It was somewhat like spoon-feeding a toddler but even more challenging. Then one of the sisters brought a change of clothes for her and laid them on the bed – I’m thinking, I can’t even get this woman’s mouth to open! How can I possibly get her to stand up?!!! Thank goodness some help came soon after. In the meantime, wounds were wrapped, massages were given, exercises were performed, comfort was given, and love was spread. One woman had about 3 inches of her tibia bone exposed along with 1/3 of her scalp peeled off. Good thing I don’t get nauseous at sights like this!

Kolkata is a place that seems to pull many volunteers from all around the world. Every individual who comes has their own personal reasons and motivation for coming. Some have absolutely no idea what brought them to Kolkata, some have a deep desire and compassion to serve, some to experience true simplicity, some to challenge themselves to the extreme, some to simply spread and share God’s amazing and selfless love and many all of the above. Asking each volunteer their reason for coming was an incredible conversation starter that was just a window into their fascinating lives. I met some really amazing individuals from all around the world. Volunteers were there from Italy, France, Ireland, Sweden, Australia, Japan, Canada and others from the US. I found great inspiration from many of these people – such big hearts and such strong faith. Some volunteers were back for their second trip; some were staying a couple weeks, others a year or more.

We really saw and experienced the dichotomy that exists among the people in Kolkata. The two extremes of rich and poor were the most extreme I’ve ever seen. Along with our experience in Kalighat, we also had a few really nice dinners and a quick tour of a resort area that a couple friends of Father took us to. We felt guilty about having such nice meals after working at Kalighat, but Andrea said it nicely, “You can’t say that you’ve seen Kolkata if you’ve only seen one side of it. This is Kolkata.”