home and healing

My journey home was more eventful than I would have liked it to be, but I learned a lot about patience along the way. My flight from Kolkata to Delhi went smoothly, and I landed in Delhi at 8pm on Wednesday night (India time). My flight from Delhi to Chicago was scheduled to take off at 12:55am, but it was delayed until 9:30am, and didn't actually end up taking off until after 1pm on Thursday.

The seventeen or so hours I spent in the Delhi airport weren't particularly enjoyable, but I did meet some wonderful people I would not have otherwise met. At one point, I sat with a small group of Chinese people singing worship songs in Mandarin. Although I couldn't understand a word they said except "amen," I was encouraged by their peacefulness in the midst of a crazy environment. A couple times I could tell which song they were singing by the melody, and I sang along in English. I also met Cliff and Tammy, an amazing young couple from Denver. Cliff had a fourteen-month-old Indian boy in his arms. The couple had just adopted Nikal from Kolkata and were anxious to get home. My night in the airport had been long, but I have a feeling their's felt longer. They had never been away from their three-year-old daughter who they adopted two years earlier, and they wanted nothing more than to get home to her and introduce her to her new baby brother.

After nearly 42 hours of traveling, I finally got home. Since then I have only been awake for a few hours at a time to eat, and then I've gone back to sleep. I can feel myself getting stronger and my lungs are thanking me for providing them with fresh air. I was also my doctor's first Typhoid case ever! This trip to Kolkata will be something I will never forget. And as much as I never want to leave the country again, I know that someday I will be back to India, and it will be to bring home a sweet baby to join my family. I think God's plan for this trip was merely to equip me for that one.

joy in suffering

I am going to have to be leaving Kolkata a few days earlier than planned. I have been fighting Typhoid Fever for several days now, and I've decided the best plan of action is to spend these last days recovering at home. The past two and a half weeks have undeniably been the hardest of my life, but also the most fruitful. I have learned more in a relatively short period of time than I thought possible. Up until now, my relationship with God has been largely dependent on my circumstances. I have not suffered well for God or with God. In Kolkata, I learned that suffering is an important part of the sanctification process. When I suffer here, I feel the Lord here with me, guiding me, and encouraging me. I called out for his help and guidance, instead of trying to do things on my own. I didn't do this because I was suddenly enlightened, I did this because here I had no other options. Everything on this earth that I've come to know and rely on was taken from me: my physical health, my family and loved ones, my country, physical and emotional comfort, and many of the other good things God has given me that I make into idols. The next 36 hours are going to be extremely difficult, but I now realize that challenges really do present great opportunity. All these things I have been taught for so long, and I thought I understood, are finally becoming an internalized reality. I want to celebrate and praise God for every little victory between now and the time I see my parents in the airport. But I want to praise Him in the suffering and waiting as well. The latter is certainly the greater challenge. I feel that I am going home better equipped to do the work God has called me to do in St. Louis. I no longer want to live in a state of worry or uncertainty about the future. I want to trust in His perfect plan. Where I am right now is exactly where I am supposed to be, and I know that the Lord must have great confidence in me to do His work since he has placed me right here, right now.

Kolkata Kids

I sure do love the orphans at Shishu Bhavan, but I'm having a hard time understanding why there are still orphans in the world. Why can't every family adopt just one orphan. Then we wouldn't need places like Shishu Bhavan anymore. They are so cute and great. I don't understand why more people don't adopt just one sweet baby or toddler from a third world country.

Oh, speaking of third world countries, forget the politically correct term "developing country." This is the third world. I don't see much in the way of development. But then, even though Kolkata might be the grossest city on earth, I must admit there's a certain gentleness to it. The violent crime rate is amazingly low. I spent a long time walking through the slums taking pictures yesterday and never once feared for my safety. The men act a little bit creepy. Sometimes they'll follow me for a block or two, but they are harmless. I realize that I stand out and it's culturally acceptable to stare here. Once I was able to get over being stared at, I was able to feel more comfortable walking down the streets.

The children are so friendly. They all come up to me and say "hello" and get so excited when I say "hi" and smile at them. I think they are proud that they can make an exchange with someone in English. Kids here have so little, but they have just as much if not more fun than kids back home. No one is inside their homes during the day because their homes (if exsistant at all) are nothing worth hanging out in. They love to play soccer in the streets. Kites seem to be the favorite toy. Kids here make kites out of anything and everything. They get them amazingly high and have great battles with them.

DumDum, ect

My friend, Katarina, and I went to an area of Kolkata called DumDum today. Katarina is attempting to teach English to a class of street children, and she was told that College street is the place to get supplies. College street consisted of street vendors behind piles of used and smelly books. People were burning trash in the street, including toxic chemicals and tires. Also, we took the subway to get there which was an experience in itself. The subway was insanely crowded despite it being the middle of the day. I can't imagine what it is like during rush hour. In Kolkata, there are countless people who live on the street and no public bathrooms. Consequently, it seems to be quite acceptable to relieve yourself wherever anywhere and everywhere. I don't think I'll be able to get used to this.

My favorite people in Kolkata are the children of Shishu Bhavan, and I've nearly got all their names memorized. I realized that several of the kids have pictures of couples on the wall with their name next to it. I guess this means they have adopted families picked out for them! I can't imagine why my kids wouldn't get adopted. They are so little, so cute, and so lovable. This was my fifth day with them, but only the first time we got to leave our windowless, 12x12 room where my 20 kids spend their day. We had the opportunity to go out into the courtyard with all the other children at the home and watch a circus. They were a group called "Performers without Borders" from the UK. I got a chance to talk to them after the show. They are here for a month conducting workshops at a school for street children. They wanted to see Mother House and I felt like a veteran volunteer showing them how to get there and where the museum, Mother's tomb, and her bedroom are.

Yesterday, one of my roommates was very ill. When I came back to check on her midday, there were two women in white cotton saris next to her bed. Sister Mercy Maria and Sister Michael heard she was sick and came to bring her medicine and just to sit and visit with her. They are such incredible women. Most of them join the order when they are younger than I am, and they are prepared to uproot themselves and move every six months. Mother House and the sisters who live there seem to be one of the few redeeming aspects of this inhuman city. I keep thinking I have seen the grossest place a person could possibly live, and then I go to a different part of the city and realize it actually gets worse. The same could be said about the quality of the air.

Rickshaws

My mom gave me a book to read called, The City of Joy. It's a fascinating book about one of Kolkata's slums in the 1960s. The names of the characters have been changed, but it's otherwise a true story. One of the main characters, Hasari Pal, arrives in Kolkata with his family looking for work and becomes a rickshaw puller. I've been going back and forth on how I feel about rickshaws.

Rickshaws are completely inhumane. They treat humans as if they were horses, and I don't even like seeing a horse pulling a carriage. The pullers look like they are 20 years older than they really are because the life they lead is so hard on their bodies. In addition to the physical labor, they are breathing in the grossest grossness in the grossest city all day, everyday. I'm sure plenty of them end up in Kalighat with lung cancer.

On the other hand, rickshaws provide employment to innumerable Indian men. Hasari is overwhelmed with joy at the opportunity to pull a rickshaw. They are certainly more environmental than taxis. If they outlawed rickshaws, there would be a massive unemployment problem, and this city would become even more polluted (if that's possible).

I took a rickshaw the other day and thought I would do a good thing by simply overpaying my puller. This was a bad idea. He then continued to follow me around all day, even waiting outside of shops that I went into. I don't know what the solution is to this problem. I guess the Indians don't see it as a problem, but it's certainly not something that would happen in my country.

Shishu Bhavan

I just finished a shift at Shishu Bhavan. The part of the home in which I was working currently houses 94 toddlers. I was in a room with 20 three-year-olds. They are precious but completely insane. They all want attention more than anything and will do anything to get it. They have to wear hats because many of them have lice, but they'll take their hats off just so someone will have to put it back on them. They call me and the other volunteers "Auntie." I was working with two girls from Wake Forrest University, but tomorrow is their last day. I think I was more exhausted after a few hours at Shishu Bhavan than I am after ten hours with the Pruetts.

The streets and the markets

I woke up and went to mass at Mother House this morning at 6am. It sounds early, but we go to bed early here. Walking to Mother House early in the morning I have to step over babies sleeping on the streets. It's easier to deal with when they are bothering me and grabbing my legs. It's much harder to see them sleeping and realizing that's really where they live.

After mass I had breakfast with the other volunteers at Mother House, and Timyra and I met another girl who was starting today. Her name is Katarina and she's from Slovakia. It's funny that I just met her this morning. It's easy to get to know people quickly here. It's kind of like Kamp in that way. Katarine, Timyra, and I all have the evening shift, so we spent the morning together. We walked from Baptist Mission to Sudder street. To get there, we walked through the Muslim slums. People were washing themselves on the sidewalk and getting ready for the day. We saw the huge megaphone that we hear a man "singing" from five times a day to call faithful Muslims to prayer. I guess I'm getting better at tuning it out because it didn't wake me up today at 5am.

None of us brought much clothing, so we tried to do a little shopping. I've never realized how important harassment laws are until I came here. We would turn around and realize there was a small crowd of five to seven men following us, waiting for a chance to bother us to go into their respective shops. It was an overwhelming experience. I hate having to say "Go away," but "no, thank you" or "I'm not interested" doesn't seem to get the point across.

I can't wait to play with the sweet toddlers at Shishu Bhavan. The orientation was at Shishu Bhavan, and while I was waiting outside I started talking to a couple from Switzerland who had a little Indian boy with them. I asked if they were their for orientation, and they said that they were actually there to take a tour because they had adopted their son from the orphanage three years earlier and this was his first time back.