I had a very interesting Easter this year.
It all started mid-week last week when Rangit, one of the young men (I'd say he's around 30 years old) that is on staff where I volunteer invited me to come to his house on Sunday for a meal with his family. Now, I've been around long enough to know not to accept invitations from strangers to come to their home (especially in certain parts of the world). But I had been working along side this guy for about two weeks and I was going to be working with him until early May, so I let my guard down and accepted his invitation. At the time he didn't provide any additional details, just the initial invite.
Fast forward to Friday and I see him at work in the morning and we say hello as always and I dove right into my work. Before I knew it it was noon and the morning shift was over. As I do every day, I went upstairs, got my bag and headed back to my apartment for lunch. I returned at 3pm for the afternoon shift and after a while I realized the Rangit wasn't around. So I asked one of his co-workers Sunil and he said he was off now until Monday. Hmmm, I have no way of contacting him and no details about Sunday. Sunil tells me he lives in the house right next door to him and that it is an hour bus ride from where we work.
So now I'm really baffled. No plan to meet, no directions and he wasn't expected back at work until Monday. So I tell this to Sunil and ask him to apologize to Rangit if he sees him, but that there must have been a misunderstanding (by the way, Rangit doesn't speak very much English and when he does speak in English it usually takes me asking him to repeat himself about three times before I understand what he's saying) and that I apologize and I would just be showing up for work on Sunday as I normally would.
Now it's Easter Sunday morning and I make my way to work before 8am and start washing clothes. As a few more volunteers begin to trickle in, I take a big basket of freshly hand-washed sheets and clothes up the three flights to the roof top for hanging on the line to dry. About 10 minutes go by and out of no where, between the newly hung wet clothes, Rangit pops out at me! He's all dressed up in long gray pants and a gray button down shirt and sandals. He asked me where I had been! He said he had been out in front of Mother Teresa's since 7am waiting for me. Huh? Why would I know that and why didn't we see each other when I came in shortly before 8am? There is only one way to get into and out of the building (I was thinking recently about the fire escape plan...but I'm guessing they don't have one...I better ask!).
So he hustles me out of there asking me to try not to let the sisters see me and not to tell them where I am going if they do. Interesting. So I grab my bag and slip out virtually unnoticed. We start walking briskly to the main road. It's there that we will catch a bus for the hour-long journey. We start walking in the direction we need to go and after about 10 minutes he yells, "Brother, here comes the bus! And like all buses in Calcutta, it came barreling down the street towards us and he gives a little wave. The bus begins to slow down and before you know it you start running along side and then jump into the open doorway and up the three steps. It never stopped moving. The bus is crowded, but not packed although every seat is taken. As people get off some quickly maneuver into the now vacant spot. I pass on my first few opportunities to sit down when my host says to me, "Brother, you should sit, it's a long journey to my house." So I take the next seat that becomes available.
As I look out the window I realize how lush and green it has become. Coconut and banana trees everywhere. But we are still passing through throngs of vehicles and people as well as the extension of the Metro (subway). So it's extremely noisy and dusty. After about 15 minutes into the journey the bus comes to a screeching halt and then slowly moves to the side of the road. It has broken down. After a few minutes Rangit gets up and jumps off the bus to take a closer look. I sit, waiting. He jumps back on and motions for me to follow him off the bus. We walk a few feet ahead and stand in the 100+ heat, the sun beating down on us. It's only about 8:45am. Another bus pulls up and we jump on. No seat this time, it's full. We ride along for about 20 minutes and then he motions to me and we jump off as it slows down. The street is narrow and packed with honking two-way traffic, buses, cabs, motorcycles, rickshaws, people carrying huge loads on their heads, carts, bicycles, tuk-tuk's and more.
We start walking along the side of the road, the sidewalks are way too congested to maneuver. I'm thinking we must be very close to his home now. All of the sudden we stop and he waves down a tuk-tuk (a three-wheeled motorized vehicle with no doors that would comfortable seat four people, including the driver). There are three people already in the back seat and two in the front (one of which is the driver). Rangit motions me to jump into the front as he squeezes into the back. But before I could move a zaftig lady in a beautiful sari jumps into the seat and a guy she is with runs around to the other side and squeezes himself into the back seat. So there are now five people in the back and three in the front. My friend says something to the driver in Hindi and the lady in the sari slides in a bit exposing a tiny fraction of the front seat and they motion for me to jump on. What!? Okay, so I jump in and cosy up to the lady in the sari as much as possible...but only one of my butt cheeks is on the seat! The other cheek is hanging out the side of the vehicle. And we're off! I am grasping a handle with one hand and a bar on the roof with the other and I'm literally hanging on for dear life! I'm even hooking my right shoulder blade on to the seat behind me, using every ounce of strength to hold on and not fall out. We are buzzing along at a fast pace, passing cars, honking away. I need to talk a deep breathe and hope for the best as the left side of my exposed body comes inches away from everything we pass. It's harrowing, but at the same time absolutely thrilling. It did cross my mind that people could talk about what a great way it was for me to go if I hadn't have made it!
I was praying we would stop soon... when we finally did I popped out of the side of the tuk-tuk like a cork. I was so happy!
There is a facility out there run by The Missionaries of Charity as well as a drug rehab at the place we've stopped. We walked down the road, squeezed through a locked gate, passed the rehab building, a grotto that Mother Teresa herself had built out there and then came upon a cluster of small homes surrounded by trees and fields, actually a very peaceful place. From around a tall bunch of grass came running the most adorable little boy yelling, "Uncle! Uncle!" And then an attractive young woman in a sari with a bright smile appeared. They were Rangit's wife and 3-1/2 year old son. They welcomed me warmly and lead me into their house. I took off my shoes and entered what appeared to be a two room building, but they only lived in one of the rooms. Come to find out they were just temporarily staying with neighbors in one room in their house.
The room was small, probably half the size of my living room back home. A majority of it was taken up by a large platform bed. They asked me to sit up on the bed and offered me water with sugar in it. It was very refreshing after such a crazy journey. Rangit's father now appeared. A short, slender man with wire rim glasses. He spoke English rather well, as did Rangit's wife. All four of them share this single room.
Next came small, round donuts (sweet and delicious) followed by cucumber spears with salt. The little boy and I were up on the bed playing with a tiny broken truck and a pair of broken toy binoculars. The father stood and chatted away while the wife prepared lunch. She was cooking right there in the same room, at the foot of the bed. And then Ragit sat on the floor next to the bed and sliced more cucumbers and onions. The father asked me to come outside. So I jumped off the bed and followed. He took me around back to show me where his house once stood. It was so damaged by falling coconuts and wind and rain durning the last monsoon season that he'd decided to tear it down and build a new house a few feet away, just changing the positioning. The new house was there, partially complete... he took me inside. By now Rangit's, his wife and son had joined us. There was just a shell of a building made of bricks. It still needed windows, doors, floors, etc.
And then it started. First the father, the Rangit and finally, even the wife. They have no money to finish the house. If I could help them it would be greatly appreciated. The father even said that God would look favorably on me if I helped them finish their house. He tells me he is disabled (and shows me both of his legs, they look fine to me). Ragit and his wife complained that Mother Teresa's didn't pay him well. It went on and on. I was uncomfortable, to say the least. But more than that, I was sad that it turned into this and it wasn't an invitation out of kindness but really a ploy to get money out of me. It was a real disappointment.
Later I find out that Ragit thought it was my last day so I'm assuming he thought he could guilt me into giving him money before I left. I told him he was mistaken, that I would be there until May 3rd. I could tell he was surprised and felt awkward.
We went back to the temporary house for the meal. The wife spread newspapers on the bed and set out a large plate of white rice and three smaller dishes, one with fish curry, sone with chicken curry and one a salad of cucumbers, onions and peppers. She then says, "Eat, Brother."
Am I the only one eating?? The father comes in and starts to change his clothes. He tells me he got a call and has to leave. He insists on taking my mailing address and email address and promises to contact me so I can help him with his house.
Rangit sits on the floor and his wife now gives him some food. She and the little boy will eat later.
So I sit on their bed and eat. The food is actually very good. But it is awkward as now no one is talking. We finish and Rangit climbs up onto the bed and lies down and starts watching videos on his tiny cell phone. The kid climbs up and he and I play with his broken truck. Finally the wife speaks to him in Hindi and I can tell they are figuring out the best way to get me back. He will walk me back to the main road and wait with me until the bus comes. Great. I jump off the bed and thank her for a great meal, say goodbye to the kid and head for my shoes. Rangit and I walk back to the road saying very little. As we approach the road he asks if I can help. I remind him that I don't have a job so I will not be able to help him, but if after I return and get a job, I would try... and not feeling too bad knowing I would not be sending him any money. He asks me again not to tell the Sisters that I had gone to his house or that he had asked me for money. I told him I would not. Thankfully as we hit the road a bus appeared and I jumped on and had an uneventful ride back to Kalighat.
Since I didn't have enough time to go home for lunch before the afternoon shift, I decided to visit the Kali Temple. I hadn't been since my last trip to Calcutta in 2010. Once inside I was approached by a "priest" who took me too a bench so I could remove my shoes. He washed my hands with "water from the holy Ganges," and started taking me through the temple. It was an off time, so no goats were being sacrificed and you couldn't even see the image of Kali as the doors were closed. But he took me around stopping here and there for an offering of flowers, prayers for my family members, for me to find a nice girlfriend (ha!) and promises that I would return to the temple. He blessed me with an orange dot on my forehead and before I knew it I was back on the street. I went next door to Mother Teresa's for the afternoon shift.
Since it was Easter, there were all new clothes for the patients (they refer to them as inmates, but I think that's weird, so I call them patients) and new sheets. The guys were in brightly colored solid t-shirts and multi-colored striped or checked pants and the sheets were bright orange with white daisies. The entire room was so much more cheerful and happy. The guys seemed to be in better moods. Then they brought out small cups of vanilla ice cream which was a huge treat for them. One of my favorite guys is in Bed #15. He is paralyzed from the neck down. I try to feed him as often as I can and spend as much time with him as possible (I will write a post on him soon). He was so thrilled with the ice cream and it was a joy to feed it to him. He gave me a huge smile that made my day.
So that was pretty much my Easter this year. One I won't soon forget.
It all started mid-week last week when Rangit, one of the young men (I'd say he's around 30 years old) that is on staff where I volunteer invited me to come to his house on Sunday for a meal with his family. Now, I've been around long enough to know not to accept invitations from strangers to come to their home (especially in certain parts of the world). But I had been working along side this guy for about two weeks and I was going to be working with him until early May, so I let my guard down and accepted his invitation. At the time he didn't provide any additional details, just the initial invite.
Fast forward to Friday and I see him at work in the morning and we say hello as always and I dove right into my work. Before I knew it it was noon and the morning shift was over. As I do every day, I went upstairs, got my bag and headed back to my apartment for lunch. I returned at 3pm for the afternoon shift and after a while I realized the Rangit wasn't around. So I asked one of his co-workers Sunil and he said he was off now until Monday. Hmmm, I have no way of contacting him and no details about Sunday. Sunil tells me he lives in the house right next door to him and that it is an hour bus ride from where we work.
So now I'm really baffled. No plan to meet, no directions and he wasn't expected back at work until Monday. So I tell this to Sunil and ask him to apologize to Rangit if he sees him, but that there must have been a misunderstanding (by the way, Rangit doesn't speak very much English and when he does speak in English it usually takes me asking him to repeat himself about three times before I understand what he's saying) and that I apologize and I would just be showing up for work on Sunday as I normally would.
Now it's Easter Sunday morning and I make my way to work before 8am and start washing clothes. As a few more volunteers begin to trickle in, I take a big basket of freshly hand-washed sheets and clothes up the three flights to the roof top for hanging on the line to dry. About 10 minutes go by and out of no where, between the newly hung wet clothes, Rangit pops out at me! He's all dressed up in long gray pants and a gray button down shirt and sandals. He asked me where I had been! He said he had been out in front of Mother Teresa's since 7am waiting for me. Huh? Why would I know that and why didn't we see each other when I came in shortly before 8am? There is only one way to get into and out of the building (I was thinking recently about the fire escape plan...but I'm guessing they don't have one...I better ask!).
So he hustles me out of there asking me to try not to let the sisters see me and not to tell them where I am going if they do. Interesting. So I grab my bag and slip out virtually unnoticed. We start walking briskly to the main road. It's there that we will catch a bus for the hour-long journey. We start walking in the direction we need to go and after about 10 minutes he yells, "Brother, here comes the bus! And like all buses in Calcutta, it came barreling down the street towards us and he gives a little wave. The bus begins to slow down and before you know it you start running along side and then jump into the open doorway and up the three steps. It never stopped moving. The bus is crowded, but not packed although every seat is taken. As people get off some quickly maneuver into the now vacant spot. I pass on my first few opportunities to sit down when my host says to me, "Brother, you should sit, it's a long journey to my house." So I take the next seat that becomes available.
As I look out the window I realize how lush and green it has become. Coconut and banana trees everywhere. But we are still passing through throngs of vehicles and people as well as the extension of the Metro (subway). So it's extremely noisy and dusty. After about 15 minutes into the journey the bus comes to a screeching halt and then slowly moves to the side of the road. It has broken down. After a few minutes Rangit gets up and jumps off the bus to take a closer look. I sit, waiting. He jumps back on and motions for me to follow him off the bus. We walk a few feet ahead and stand in the 100+ heat, the sun beating down on us. It's only about 8:45am. Another bus pulls up and we jump on. No seat this time, it's full. We ride along for about 20 minutes and then he motions to me and we jump off as it slows down. The street is narrow and packed with honking two-way traffic, buses, cabs, motorcycles, rickshaws, people carrying huge loads on their heads, carts, bicycles, tuk-tuk's and more.
We start walking along the side of the road, the sidewalks are way too congested to maneuver. I'm thinking we must be very close to his home now. All of the sudden we stop and he waves down a tuk-tuk (a three-wheeled motorized vehicle with no doors that would comfortable seat four people, including the driver). There are three people already in the back seat and two in the front (one of which is the driver). Rangit motions me to jump into the front as he squeezes into the back. But before I could move a zaftig lady in a beautiful sari jumps into the seat and a guy she is with runs around to the other side and squeezes himself into the back seat. So there are now five people in the back and three in the front. My friend says something to the driver in Hindi and the lady in the sari slides in a bit exposing a tiny fraction of the front seat and they motion for me to jump on. What!? Okay, so I jump in and cosy up to the lady in the sari as much as possible...but only one of my butt cheeks is on the seat! The other cheek is hanging out the side of the vehicle. And we're off! I am grasping a handle with one hand and a bar on the roof with the other and I'm literally hanging on for dear life! I'm even hooking my right shoulder blade on to the seat behind me, using every ounce of strength to hold on and not fall out. We are buzzing along at a fast pace, passing cars, honking away. I need to talk a deep breathe and hope for the best as the left side of my exposed body comes inches away from everything we pass. It's harrowing, but at the same time absolutely thrilling. It did cross my mind that people could talk about what a great way it was for me to go if I hadn't have made it!
I was praying we would stop soon... when we finally did I popped out of the side of the tuk-tuk like a cork. I was so happy!
There is a facility out there run by The Missionaries of Charity as well as a drug rehab at the place we've stopped. We walked down the road, squeezed through a locked gate, passed the rehab building, a grotto that Mother Teresa herself had built out there and then came upon a cluster of small homes surrounded by trees and fields, actually a very peaceful place. From around a tall bunch of grass came running the most adorable little boy yelling, "Uncle! Uncle!" And then an attractive young woman in a sari with a bright smile appeared. They were Rangit's wife and 3-1/2 year old son. They welcomed me warmly and lead me into their house. I took off my shoes and entered what appeared to be a two room building, but they only lived in one of the rooms. Come to find out they were just temporarily staying with neighbors in one room in their house.
The room was small, probably half the size of my living room back home. A majority of it was taken up by a large platform bed. They asked me to sit up on the bed and offered me water with sugar in it. It was very refreshing after such a crazy journey. Rangit's father now appeared. A short, slender man with wire rim glasses. He spoke English rather well, as did Rangit's wife. All four of them share this single room.
Next came small, round donuts (sweet and delicious) followed by cucumber spears with salt. The little boy and I were up on the bed playing with a tiny broken truck and a pair of broken toy binoculars. The father stood and chatted away while the wife prepared lunch. She was cooking right there in the same room, at the foot of the bed. And then Ragit sat on the floor next to the bed and sliced more cucumbers and onions. The father asked me to come outside. So I jumped off the bed and followed. He took me around back to show me where his house once stood. It was so damaged by falling coconuts and wind and rain durning the last monsoon season that he'd decided to tear it down and build a new house a few feet away, just changing the positioning. The new house was there, partially complete... he took me inside. By now Rangit's, his wife and son had joined us. There was just a shell of a building made of bricks. It still needed windows, doors, floors, etc.
And then it started. First the father, the Rangit and finally, even the wife. They have no money to finish the house. If I could help them it would be greatly appreciated. The father even said that God would look favorably on me if I helped them finish their house. He tells me he is disabled (and shows me both of his legs, they look fine to me). Ragit and his wife complained that Mother Teresa's didn't pay him well. It went on and on. I was uncomfortable, to say the least. But more than that, I was sad that it turned into this and it wasn't an invitation out of kindness but really a ploy to get money out of me. It was a real disappointment.
Later I find out that Ragit thought it was my last day so I'm assuming he thought he could guilt me into giving him money before I left. I told him he was mistaken, that I would be there until May 3rd. I could tell he was surprised and felt awkward.
We went back to the temporary house for the meal. The wife spread newspapers on the bed and set out a large plate of white rice and three smaller dishes, one with fish curry, sone with chicken curry and one a salad of cucumbers, onions and peppers. She then says, "Eat, Brother."
Am I the only one eating?? The father comes in and starts to change his clothes. He tells me he got a call and has to leave. He insists on taking my mailing address and email address and promises to contact me so I can help him with his house.
Rangit sits on the floor and his wife now gives him some food. She and the little boy will eat later.
So I sit on their bed and eat. The food is actually very good. But it is awkward as now no one is talking. We finish and Rangit climbs up onto the bed and lies down and starts watching videos on his tiny cell phone. The kid climbs up and he and I play with his broken truck. Finally the wife speaks to him in Hindi and I can tell they are figuring out the best way to get me back. He will walk me back to the main road and wait with me until the bus comes. Great. I jump off the bed and thank her for a great meal, say goodbye to the kid and head for my shoes. Rangit and I walk back to the road saying very little. As we approach the road he asks if I can help. I remind him that I don't have a job so I will not be able to help him, but if after I return and get a job, I would try... and not feeling too bad knowing I would not be sending him any money. He asks me again not to tell the Sisters that I had gone to his house or that he had asked me for money. I told him I would not. Thankfully as we hit the road a bus appeared and I jumped on and had an uneventful ride back to Kalighat.
Since I didn't have enough time to go home for lunch before the afternoon shift, I decided to visit the Kali Temple. I hadn't been since my last trip to Calcutta in 2010. Once inside I was approached by a "priest" who took me too a bench so I could remove my shoes. He washed my hands with "water from the holy Ganges," and started taking me through the temple. It was an off time, so no goats were being sacrificed and you couldn't even see the image of Kali as the doors were closed. But he took me around stopping here and there for an offering of flowers, prayers for my family members, for me to find a nice girlfriend (ha!) and promises that I would return to the temple. He blessed me with an orange dot on my forehead and before I knew it I was back on the street. I went next door to Mother Teresa's for the afternoon shift.
Since it was Easter, there were all new clothes for the patients (they refer to them as inmates, but I think that's weird, so I call them patients) and new sheets. The guys were in brightly colored solid t-shirts and multi-colored striped or checked pants and the sheets were bright orange with white daisies. The entire room was so much more cheerful and happy. The guys seemed to be in better moods. Then they brought out small cups of vanilla ice cream which was a huge treat for them. One of my favorite guys is in Bed #15. He is paralyzed from the neck down. I try to feed him as often as I can and spend as much time with him as possible (I will write a post on him soon). He was so thrilled with the ice cream and it was a joy to feed it to him. He gave me a huge smile that made my day.
So that was pretty much my Easter this year. One I won't soon forget.
Go to my Facebook page to see some photos from the day.
I can just picture the 4 of you in a space half the size of our NY living room eating on a platform bed after being asked to help with the construction costs. CRAZY.
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