Ta Ta!

This morning I woke up not knowing what to expect from today, my last in Calcutta, my last in India. We armed ourselves with bags of medical supplies, food for the kids and a few tissues for our eyes if needed. It was a normal day like I knew it would be. The only thing was the kids smiles seemed to be bigger, eyes brighter and hugs more touching. I will miss this place.

We found our usual crew of people and after taking care of them we were approached by the mother who was passed our cold a few weeks ago with the little baby. Her child was burning up and looked very sick. We all had to take a deep breath and do our best to help her battle the 'system' to get her child medicine. We cleaned her, dressed her wounds and promised to buy her medication if she brought us a prescription. We found a new man with elephantitis and took care of a young girl with cuts up and down her arm...probably self-inflicted. When the time came to leave, Ann and I stood behind and told the others we would take the next train. This place has changed me so much I didn't know what to do other than stand for a minute and watch. My favorite (even though I shouldn't have one..I do:) girl came up to me and gave me a big smooch right on the lips and then did the same for Ann. I gave her one back, smiled and walked away. I know that her days will be the same trials and tribulations of survival once I leave and I hope others will come take good care of her and teach her family to do the same. I had to walk away and not look back or I probably wouldn't have ever been able to stop hugging her. I know in my heart that I will return again soon.

We stopped at the other station on the way home and gave a family a laminated photo that Ann took a week earlier. The father and mother looked at it with pride. I am sure this is their only family photo. It felt good to provide that for them.

Today we will pack and say good bye to India. The plan for the evening is dinner and good company. At 0500 tomorrow a cab will take us away, back to our reality....more to come next year. Signing off from India...Katie

Perfect Symmetry

I woke on the train at 0600 to a baby crying below and a loud snoring man to my left. It is amazing to get any sleep on the trains with all of the distractions and smells but most nights have been OK. The train is a great way to see the country while staying budget conscious. There are options of 1st/2nd or 3rd class AC or the always-classy and stylish 'general sleeper' class where Ann and I have stayed on each train ride. We have met some very interesting people, been stared at and seen amazing countryside. One thing we have never felt however, is unsafe.
We arrived at the Agra Fort rail station and were whisked away by an autorickshaw who must have been telepathic because he knew everything we needed to have a great day in Agra. First, we went to get tickets for the train to Delhi that night, then he helped us get our luggage secured and finally, he took us to the Taj Mahal. I was suspicious he might be scamming us because of his insistence and persistence and in the end we ended up with a minor argument and frustration over our connecting train reservation, but everything worked out.
We were approached at the entrance of the Taj by a young man in fake Dulce and Gabbana sunglasses, a button up shirt and nice jeans. If I didn't know better, I would have mistaken him for a Bollywood star:) He said he was 'official guide' and wanted to take us on a tour of the Taj. He showed a badge and when I asked for government paperwork be handed me a formal letterhead that stated he was NOT an official guide and didn't have a license. I think he must have produced this paperwork many times for tourists and people didn't read the fine print. I questioned him and he smiled and said 'tour?' We accepted, mostly because he was amusing and we were lead to the majestic Taj Mahal. The entire building and grounds is in 'perfect symmetry' and those words were ingrained in our heads by our enthusiastic guide. We spent the morning wandering around a wonder of the world before heading to the Agra Fort a few kilometers away. After spending the day in the hot sun we braved the train station, met a fellow traveler from Canada and headed to Delhi on a 'superfast' (meaning 5 hour) train. We arrived to a backpacker street, checked into a guest house and fell asleep.
In the morning Ann and I went to the famous markets and bargained ourselves some treasures before going to the airport for a 2 hour flight back to Calcutta. It was a whirlwind trip and we saw a different and diverse India. I loved it. Part of me will always stay here. The differences are vast between India and home but it truly grows on you and will be sincerely missed.

Good Karma, Small Price

Just returned from a multi-day trip across India. We left Sunday night on a 14, turned 19 hour with delay, trip from Calcutta to Varanasi. This is one of the holiest cities in India and many Hindu people pilgrimage there as a religious rite. It is home to the Ganges River and is considered the "City of Shiva". It is a place where death and life come together. We arrived haggard and tired to a small train station on the outskirts of the city. We negotiated a rickshaw and settled into one of our 'India indulgences', the Ganga River View Hotel, our oasis amidst chaos. For a slightly elevated fee, we enjoyed a beautiful room, hot water and good food. Ann and I sent the afternoon walking from ghat to ghat and watching people. The bright colors of ongoing celebration and festival perfectly lined the jagged waters edge.

In the evening as we walked back from town a man yelled, 'boat, small price' and motioned us over. He offered a 1 hour ride down the river to observe various religious rituals for a minimal rupee price. We accepted and followed down to the river edge thinking he would be our boat captain. Much to our surprise, and accidental support of Indian child labor, a young boy probably only 10 or 11 jumped into the boat claiming he was 13 and made a 'good wage'. Our guilt and the incoming night cloaked us as we watched from afar ceremonies of cremation, Hindu prayer and chanting. The experience was both intense and surreal. The next morning I took a solo boat trip on the river with another suspiciously young boat driver. The rising sun provided a soft warm glow to hundreds of bodies bathing in the holy river. As I walked back from the boat children came up to me selling candles wrapped in banana leaves to float down the river. 'Good karma, small price' they said in perfect English. I had to smile and buy one. Hey, any good karma I can get is good, and for a small price....how can I resist? As a side note, personally I wouldn't dare put even a fingernail in the Ganges because of the high pollution. I watched farmers lead cattle down irrigation channels filled with pus and slime and almost bubbling with toxicity. These channels went into the river that was equally disgusting. There is an environmental movement to clean up the river that I fear will be faced with many challenges because of the line that wound be crossed between government and religion. It will be interesting to see how that plays out in upcoming years.
We left Varanasi around 1800 for another long night trip to Agra and the TAJ MAHAL!!!

Reality Check

It is amazing the range of emotions you can feel when experiencing a new place. India is like a tree with a thousand branches. Some are long, others short, some soft and many undiscovered. Some days when I return from volunteering I feel far out on a limb of this tree and I can't often describe what emotion I am feeling, only that it is powerful.

On Friday evening we did wound care at Shealdah station. It was a great day, the synergy of volunteering was in full swing. It is amazing to form relationships with the people who live on the streets. It makes getting up at 0430 and working in the extreme heat a privilege rather than a chore. I am honored each day that people allow me into their lives and help them. I learn something new every minute and with that knowledge my experience and tolerance grows. Some of the things I have seen in the past few days are unbearable. For example, Rebecca and I came across a young baby (maybe 4 months) slouched on her mother's stomach on Friday. She was filthy and covered with flies. We went to her and offered milk and food. Her mother didn't wake up. A crowd gathered around us as it often does and bystanders tried to wake the mother, shaking and even punching her in the face. She was so drunk that she didn't even flinch. This poor baby was being cared for by an incapacitated mother. We held the baby, cleaned her and made sure others were watching out for her. I left with a tear in my eyes. Without a moment to clear my head, soon as we went outside, other immediately rushed to us. There is no time to process here, you must treat kindly and non-judgmentally and move on. The young girl who was raped a week or so ago climbed onto my back and I played with her for a few minutes. As always, she had a runny nose so the other volunteers and I tried to clean her up. As squirmy as a rabbit, she tried to hide her face, avoiding our tissues. Even in the safety of our arms, a man appeared from nowhere and slapped her in the face, trying to get her cooperation. I was stunned. I couldn't decided if I should run away with the child or fight this man. The girl started to cry and I did everything I could to hold back tears. It is so unfair. This child of four has already been through more than any one person should in a life time.

Yesterday Ann and I went into Calcutta to visit the Mother Teresa House of the Destitute and and Dying. I was very impressed with the facility. It was clean, caring and had a lot of volunteer support. The Mother's impact on Calcutta is visible in many ways. Her former presence left a quiet optimism that allows many to cope with illness and poverty.

On the train home I met a young woman who lives in Khardah. I told her that Ann wanted to get her nose pierced and asked if she knew of a good and hygienic place. She got on her cell phone immediately and call a beautician asking if she could stay open late and her sister who needed to be in on the activities. We arrived at Eve's Beauty Parlor and after a brief icing and a single 'click', Ann is now an honorary Indian woman, complete with a nose ring. She looks fantastic!

Tonight we leave on an overnight train for Varanasi...more to come.
Katie

Thank You!

I want to take a minute to thank EVERYONE for reading this blog and supporting the CRAWL project. It means so much to me having support from home. When I see the donations we were able to bring with us and spread the well-wishes you all sent, it makes me so proud and thankful to have you all in my life. Namaste.

Where is your Motherland?

This is the way Indian people ask us where we are from. Not only is this an amusing contortion of the English language, it is a strangely appropriate question given the 'alien' way we often feel here. Yesterday on the way to Calcutta, Ann and I barely make it onto the packed men's car and were pushed into a far corner, shoved between sweaty men, luggage and huge crates filled with vegetables. A man leaned to me and asked where we were going. I told him 'Dum Dum', hoping he would take pity and help us navigate our way off the train. Instead, he turned to his neighbor and whispered 'Dum Dum' and within the next minute we heard whispers of 'Dum Dum' spread throughout the train like a game of telephone. Suddenly everyone had an opinion on our upcoming train exit. 'Move here, go to the front, your stop next.' We eventually made it towards the door, packed like sardines, and a man leans to me and asks, 'Where is your motherland?' I smiled, said America and pulled my body off the train.

Last night we went to the Fairlawn Hotel to celebrate Julia's (a volunteer from Holland) birthday. The hotel is like Christmas in March with bright colored lights, good food, music and BEER! Needless to say, we enjoyed the night out and made it to the train station minutes before a huge rainstorm soaked the polluted night.

This morning was wound care at Dum Dum. There were more kids than usual and we had to buy extra biscuits from a vendor. We made our usual rounds then headed home to organize all of the medical supplies. Yesterday afternoon I started to lose my voice. Always one for a challenge, I figure that it is not enough to not speak Bengali and try to understand health problems in a foreign country, but now I should try to communicate without a voice! Hand motions and facial expressions will have to do....hopefully I will be able to speak again soon.
Katie

I request you please

Every week we have a volunteer meeting at the flat. Our coordinator comes with a list of items to discuss, neatly written out on notebook paper. The President of CRAWL is a young woman from Khardah, who after getting her degree at the university, did a survey of slum kids in our area and identified the 25 most promising, albeit, most needy children in the area. She worked to start a school for them and with the help of a few others, developed the women's program and medical project. She was joined at our meeting today by a man we have worked with a few times known only as, 'the father of Kokoli.' Kokoli is one of the other group leaders who lives on the west side of India for half of the year so we have never met her. He is a stern man who speaks loudly and yells at you in every conversation, even if he is giving you a compliment. His intonation is harsh but his words are often kind. We always chuckle when anyone talks about him because his actual name is a mystery to us, he is known only as 'The father of Kokoli', from his cell phone number listing on the contact board at the flat, to introductions made to other volunteers. Very funny.

I have picked up tips from others on adapting to Indian life. For example, if an Indian man is harassing you in anyway, it is most shameful to make him feel like he is dishonoring your family. I tried this out while haggling for a cab from the rail station home yesterday. Our cabbie agreed on a price and when we seemed to accept he stated, 'No miss, I said, 250, I request you please 250, I request you please...' Even though his English made me laugh, Ann and I had to stand firm with our original price. He didn't accept and said we were making up numbers. We looked at him shockingly and said, 'I will be a mother someday' and ' I am some one's daughter.' He looked so surprised and I could tell our words impacted him. The sense of community and family is so strong here that if you not only make yourself seem insulted, but are part of a larger picture, often the situation becomes quickly more fair. We settled on a price and headed home. I have written about how scary the trains are, but a cab ride is not an ideal alternative. I noticed early in the trip that no cars have side mirrors. This is because rules of the road do not exist. Cars squeeze themselves as close to other cars, rickshaws, bikes and people as possible. I almost can't look because we are always 2 seconds away from a potential accident. I had to close my eyes and hope I would open them to the road near our flat and not a hospital (trust me, I have seen the hospitals here:)
This morning was quiet at the train station, hopefully we will find more people tomorrow. I ran into one old man lying on a bench, wife at his side, gently stroking his hand. She handed me a folder of medical records and prescriptions. She had tears in her eyes. I looked at the paperwork which showed he had a right-sided CVA one week ago. There was a list of medications the doctor ordered. I took it from her, promised to get the medication and return tomorrow. It is frustrating that doctors discharge people to the streets without knowing in good faith that they have the ability to get medications. Hopefully I can find them all and dispense in the morning.
We leave for a few days of travel on Sunday...