Saturday, March 30, 2013

R. I. P. My Friend


I wrote this on Friday, March 29th...

The man in Bed #49 passed away this morning.

It was bound to happen, something that I certainly was expecting, but until that moment I didn't know how I would respond.  Not that it is about me, it obviously wasn't, but it was my experience, something that I witnessed and participated in and it was bound to have an effect on me.

He came in on Wednesday.  I think they found him at one of the large train stations, as they often do.  He was not a very big man, quite small actually.  He was probably in his mid-late 60s.  He had very big, expressive eyes and was missing several teeth.  He was quite thin, probably weighted 80-90 ponds.  I happen to be at the right place at the right moment and was asked to help bathe him and put into the standard "pajamas," and then asked to help get him to the infirmary and up onto the examination table.  It is what happened next that created what I felt was a special bond between us.  He was so freighted and in so much pain.  His feet were bare and the left one was completely black, well not completely as there was some fresh red blood oozing from a few places, and his heel was almost non existent, as if something had taken a bite out of him.  Also, he had a very large protuberance on the left side of his chest the size of a large orange, right over his heart.

I stayed with him and spoke softly into his ear and squeezed his hand and he squeezed my hand back as the doctor (an older women from France who, in my opinion, doesn't have the best bedside manner) tried her best to dress the entire foot. But she knew from the first moment that gangrene had already set in and would continue to move up the leg and kill him if the foot wasn't amputated within the next 48 hours.  We moved him off the table and to his bed, #49.  I sat with him holding his hand and telling him everything would be fine, thinking that they would take him to a hospital and amputate the foot.  While he didn't understand English, he did smile and shake his head and started to relax.  I gave him some water and he even ate a little.  The morning shift was ending, so I said goodbye and that I would see him in the afternoon.

I was back at 3pm and went over to check on him and saw the bandages were all off of his foot.  A very nice, young French guy, another volunteer, started to spend some time with him too.  One of the nuns tried several times to get an IV drip into his arm, but his veins were so bad it took quite some time to finally get it in.  I spoke with her after to ask when he would be going to the hospital.  She told me he wouldn't be going.  The surgery is expensive and at his age and the condition he was in, they wouldn't be able to find a hospital to do it.  That's when I knew he was going to die there.  I asked her how long and she said two days at the most.  I spent as much time with him as I could as did a few of the other volunteers and nuns.

The next day was Thursday, yesterday, and that is the day off for volunteers.  So I didn't see him again until this morning, Good Friday.  He looked much worse.  One of the staff workers asked me to change him.  I had to be so careful moving his legs as he was in so much pain (he was no longer connected to the IV drip).  I got him into clean pants and top and then one of the head nuns handed me a cup with some liquified food and asked me to feed him.  I slowly tried to get small spoonfuls of the liquid into his mouth but he did not want it.  I successfully got about three spoonfuls in and then it was clear he wasn't going to take any more, so they told me I could stop. I cleaned up his face and sat with him for a few minutes and then went on to take care of other patients.  A short time later, I would say not more than 15 minutes, I noticed two of the nuns and a few other people standing over his bed.  I went over just as they were bringing an oxygen tank. A great volunteer from Hong Kong named Walter (a nurse back home) put the small tubes into his nose.  The nuns began a series of prayers and his breaths became further and further apart.  The nuns continued to pray.  Walter slowly closed the man's eyes and started to massage his temples.  The head nun took the tubes out of his nose and closed his mouth.  His breathing became so slow that a few times I thought he had died and the he'd take a breath, but it only lasted a few minutes more and then he was gone.  I stood there over him and started to fight back tears.  The nuns started to go back to their other duties.  The rest of the staff did as well.  His body just stayed there.  Walter laid a blue and white checked towel over his hands.  I asked him how long he would stay there.  He thought it would be a little while longer.  The sisters and the rest of the staff started reciting The Stations of The Cross as it was Good Friday.  I said my goodbyes to him, touched his hands and forehead and wished him well now that he was in a better place and no longer in pain.  A few minutes later I saw a white curtain was drawn by his bed, so I went around to see two of the employees taking him out of the pajamas and putting street clothes on his body and wrapping him tightly in a large white cloth and putting the body on a stretcher.  I walked with them as they took the body and placed it in the mortuary.

I started to wander around a bit and the head nun said, "Sweetheart, come with me."  I followed her up the stairs and she asked me my name and where I was from.  When we got to the top of the stairs she asked me to wait.  There were some volunteers sitting around a table on break and one of them, a woman from Miami who is here with here with her elderly mother for a month of volunteering, looked at me and asked, "Is he gone?"  And all I could do was shake my head yes...I couldn't even get that one word out.  The Sister appeared with three packages of biscuits and asked me to give three to each of the men.  This is something the men look forward to and it gave me something enjoyable to do.   She had just said prayers over a dying man, said the Stations of The Cross and then looked out for me in a simple, kind way.

After thinking about what had happened today, I realize how lucky I was to be there when this man came in and to be there when he died this morning.  There was no way he was ever going to get better and a small group of people helped him to pass on -  not alone on the street, but with as much comfort and dignity as possible.  This is ultimately what this work is all about and why I'm here. All in all, an amazing emotional experience I was humbled to be a witness to.

Friday, March 29, 2013

Holy Holi!


March 27th is a special day in India.  This is the day they celebrate Holi, the festival of color.  I had seen signs of preparation since I first arrived, street side vendors with mounds of brightly colored powders.

When the time comes the powder is mixed with water and either applied by hand or put in squirt guns and water balloons.  I've seen many photos and video of the crazy atmosphere that accompanies this day, so I was excited and left the apartment with a bit of trepidation.

Almost everything shuts down for the holiday, so the streets were eerily quiet, even for 7am.  I did come across people already in full "color" as I got further along in my walk and I received many good wishes for a "Happy Holi."  So I made it to work without getting any color on me.

After the morning shift I made the 45 minute walk back to the apartment for lunch.  Things had definitely picked up.  There was more traffic, many young men on motorcycles, their hair, faces, clothes and even their feet now deeply colored in bright orange, red and blue.  Entire intersections of streets were now turned blue, even many of the street dogs had splashes of color on them!  And the children - oh how they were enjoying themselves!  Already colored from head to toe, they chased each other with water pistols and tossed water balloons at one another.  What a day for them.

More shouts of "Happy Holi" and many handshakes, but still no color for me.  I was starting to feel a little left out.  But I still had my walk back to work and then the final walk home for the day... so I still had a chance, so I headed back to Kalighat. I had walked through groups of young men on the sidewalk earlier in the day, but the small group I saw before me was different, I could just tell.  They were in their twenties and all dressed in white that was now fully doused in many different colors.  They saw me coming and start to wave and shout "Happy Holi!"  They stopped me to explain Holi and told me not to be afraid.  I told them I wasn't.  One asked if he could borrow some of my water.  I said sure.  They had just dumped some bright green powder on one guy and they took my water and dumped it on his head and rubbed it in and he instantly had green hair.  They returned my bottle and they all started shaking my hand, asking me to go for a drink with them and just being super cute and friendly.  I wasn't intimidated at all.  I did notice that me hands were now bright red from shaking their hands and then one of the guys took some wet red powder and with his thumb gave me a nice big swath of red color right between my eyes and the upward on my forehead.  I officially had color,  just not totally doused, which I was okay with.  I said my goodbyes and went on my way.  A few minutes later a yellow Ambassador cab went by and a guy stuck his head out the window and blew a cloud of bright orange color my way and it gave me a nice spattering.

When I arrived at work many of the guys and some of the nuns gave me a big smile and just said "Holi."  They got a kick out of seeing me with color on my face, arms and hands.  The guys also got a special "Holi" sweet (some sticky stuff that looked like shredded wheat), which I thought was nice as they are confined inside and didn't have any other chance to enjoy the festival.

The other thing about Holi, is that families have a big, special meal and in the afternoon there were very long lines at all of the butcher shops.  Everyone was looking for some nice goat to take home for the meal.

My walk home at the end of the day was pretty uneventful.  I think people were home preparing for the evening meal and to go out later.  I just received a lot of smiles and well wishes, which was nice.  I also stopped for a grape smoothie.  I think it was he most delicious think I've ever tasted.

The next day things were pretty much back to normal.  However, you can still see color stains on people's hands and faces.  I was able to get it off my face, but my right hand is still pretty red.  I went for a walking tour and found myself in some very narrow, winding streets and came across a pack of young boys that were still celebrating.  They tossed water balloons at me, which was actually quite refreshing as it was 102 degrees out!  On an even narrower street I saw ahead of me a group of older boys/men who were completely colored and seemed to be a bit drunk.  With some horseplay and colors flying I decided to make a quick detour to avoid any potential craziness and I made it home safe and sound with no new color.  It was a great day.

I'm posting a few photos on Facebook as I still can't figure out how to add photos here!  

Monday, March 25, 2013

The Guy in Bed #11

Each of the men at the at Mother Teresa's home at Kalighat are assigned a bed with a number.  The beds that are against the walls have the number in white above them, the two rows of beds that run down the center of the room have the numbers painted in white on the side of the bed frame.  I don't know any of the men by their name.  Many of them don't speak and of the ones that do, few speak English.  I really started identifying them by their bed number.  Often a nun or other staff member will say something like.. "please feed bed numer 29."

Anyway, from my very first day I gravitated to the man in Bed #11.  He has the sweetest face, very expressive eyes, big ears that stick out and shortly cropped gray hair.  He's pretty small and weighs about 95-100 lbs.  They think he's probably in his mid 60s.  He seems to have a lot of pain in his left leg, from the knee up to the hip.  He doesn't speak any English.

Every day that I walk into the place (actually twice a day), I look over to Bed #11 and there he sits and when he sees me he raises his hands into the prayer position.  I do the same and then we exchange smiles and a wave.  I then head upstairs to stash my backpack then right back down to put on an apron and rubber gloves (I would normally chose not to wear gloves, but a number of the men have scabies, so I thought I would do my best not to catch them) and head over to check in on my dear friend in Bed #11.  He reaches out both hands and then indicates for me to sit down on the bed with him or the one next to his.  We hold each others hands and he starts speaking to me in Hindi.  I react and talk back to him like I understand him, always with something upbeat.  He nods and mumbles a response as if we were really conversing.  I do actually think we are communicating and there are a few hand gestures (for eat, drink, pee) and words (for example the easy one is pani, which means water) that we use.  However, one day we were chatting away and I could tell he was asking me a question and I answered, "no, no" and shook my head.  Well, that was the wrong answer and he burst into tears!  I was so upset!  Luckily I was able to calm him down in just a few seconds. I couldn't believe I made this poor, sick old man cry! It actually has happened a few times.   I'm now very careful when I think he's asking me a question to say something like, "I'm sure everything will be fine."  And give him a rub on the back and a big smile... it usually does the trick.

When it comes time for meals, he is one of the guys that the nuns ask us to feed.  I've had the pleasure of feeding him several times already.  He also asked me to give him a shave the other day.  I told him I wasn't very good at it but I would certainly give it a try (I've given about six shaves since I've been here).  It just makes me nervous as I'm afraid I'll cut him since the razors they have are a bunch of cheap disposable ones that they keep reusing on the guys.  So I gave him a shave and it really wasn't the closest shave ever.  The next day I see him getting a shave from another volunteer and we just looked at each other and started to laugh.  I apologize again for my bad job.  Now we have an inside joke - i just grab his chin and say "I'm sorry!, and we both laugh.

He really would prefer not to be there even though he's being fed and cared for.  They don't think he has any family, but he asks daily to leave.  You have to remember, he can't stand up or walk.  So it's become kind of a joke between him and the staff.  They say, "okay, you can go, come on" and they reach for him as if to pull him up and he pulls back and smiles and chuckles. But he does want to leave.  I think one of the questions he asks me is if I think he'll die there.  

One morning last week I showed up to work a little before 8am to find the little guy from Bed #11 lying on the ground outside of the building in the already scorching morning sun.  I was shocked.  I bent down to talk to him but really couldn't figure out what had happened and then it dawned on me.  He had continued to insist on leaving so the staff put him out on the doorstep to give him what he wanted.  Of course he couldn't get anywhere because he can't walk.  A few minutes later he was comfortably back in Bed #11.  

I spend more time with him than any of the other guys (although there are others that I will talk about later) and I just adore him.  He actually seems to be a favorite of many of the staff and volunteers.  I'm sure he is a very wise man and I would love to know his story.  If I catch someone that speaks Hindi and we find time to sit with him, I'm going to try to find out more, but if all I have is our interesting conversations and out time together each day that I'm here, I'll be just as happy with that.  

Wednesday, March 20, 2013

WHAT I CAME HERE TO DO...


Friday, March 15th
First Day

At the start of each day there is a Mass at 6am at Mother House.  This is the headquarters of The Missionaries of Charity, the order that Mother Teresa formed. Her grave is on the ground floor. At 7am, they offer breakfast for the volunteers (white bread, bananas and tea).  I went for breakfast today.  There was a very attractive and nice young British couple, Robert and Emma, there that I had met at the orientation.  We had an enjoyable morning soaking it all in.  Robert is an artist, so the Sister that checked us in at orientation told him there was a sculpture of Mother Teresa that needed repainting and asked if he would do it.  I actually had to write down "unemployed" for the first time on my sheet!  It was very weird.  The Sister asked me what I did before being unemployed and I told her I worked in advertising... she didn't have a special job for me.

The sisters lead everyone in a prayer and then brief announcements were made.  And for those for whom it was their last day volunteering, they sang them a song and they were given some small token for their service.  After that people headed out in groups to the various locations.  A healthy pack of us headed down the street to hop on a local bus to take us to Kalighat. You have to act fast when the crowded bus shows up and jump on quickly.  A guy comes around to collect the 7 rupees for the 30 minute ride (approximately 13 cents).

I jumped right in upon arrival.  Most of us started with washing clothes in four large, square tubs.  It's basically soaking in plain water, soaking in soapy water, scrubbing and rinsing in clean water. There are stacks of soiled clothes and linens and about 20 people doing this for at least 90 minutes straight.  I got a blister on my hand the first day from wringing out so many clothes!  For a good portion of the time I was working along side a 22 year old guy named Zack from Alabama.  He was with a group of 14 Christian missionaries.  He was a smart, handsome and very personable guy.  He was mostly interested in hearing about my relationship with Christ and God and was super sweet and open when I told him I was gay and how I'm not particularly religious but I do think of myself as a spiritual person.  He related my being gay, which he believes is a sin, to his own sinning ways and a problem he had with pornography.  Lets just say it was an interesting conversation and part of what I look forward to as part of this experience.  We then went on to change the clothes of a few men that wet themselves - taking off the wet clothes, cleaning him up, putting on clean clothes and changing the sheets- bathing a very old man that couldn't do it on his own...side by side...doing what we came here to do.  And always with a smile.

There are 50 men here, mostly very old but a few that are younger that have both mental and physical disabilities.  You can't help but love each one.  It's terrible to say, but I have a few favorites already.  

Other tasks of the day include helping to dispense medication, clipping finger and toe nails, shaving i was very nervous doing this as I have trouble shaving myself!), distributing meals (some of the men can't feed themselves, so I've been asked to feed some of them and keep getting asked to do that, so I guess I'm doing it well), and carrying men back to their beds from the clinic or the room where they sit when the beds are being changed.  And a big part of the job is to sit and talk with the men, hold their hands, rub their heads or backs.  I'd say 98% of the men don't speak a word of English and my Hindi is non existent, so the conversations are pretty interesting, to say the least! 

The work day consists of two parts, a morning shift from 8am - 12 noon and an afternoon shift from 3-5:30pm.  And Thursday is the only day off.  

I thought I would walk back to my apartment between shifts but got totally lost and ended up just walking around for three hours, which was totally fascinating!   The afternoon shift consisted of cleaning up some of the men who wet themselves, distributing more medication and serving dinner.  

It proved to be an exhausting yet thrillingly emotional and exciting first day.  I couldn't be happier.

Tuesday, March 19, 2013

WALKING CALCUTTA



Thursday, March 14
Walking Calcutta

As I didn't start my volunteer work until last Friday as Thursday's are a day of prayer and there is no volunteer work,  I took advantage of another balmy 97 degree day to dive into a great book that Bob gave me as a gift before I left, Walking Calcutta: On foot through the backstreets and byways by Keith Humphrey

I started out at 8am to tackle Chapter 1, "Around Dalhousie Square to Old China Bazar Street."
This covers just a small section of central Calcutta.  Dalhousie Square has been renamed, like so much of the city and is now referred to as Benoy Badal Dinesh (BBD) Bagh after three Bengali martyrs.  At the center of the square is an artificial lake where it's not uncommon to see people bathing and washing clothes.  I remember this from my previous visits.  

Highlights of the walk - PLEASE NOTE- I'm still trying to figure out how to add photos to this blog, so I realize the next section won't be terribly interesting without them, so my apologies until I do!

Writers' Building - completed in 1880 - originally used to house clerks of the East India Company, now houses the offices of the Bengal State Secretariat
Old Mission Church - built in 1770 and said to be the first Protestant church in East India
St John's Church (aka 'The Stone Church) - built in the 1780's and is one of the oldest churches in Calcutta and supposedly built to a plan adapted from London's St Martin-in-the Fields Church.  There is a large painting of "The Last Supper" by Johann Zoffany that is actually pretty nice
Great Eastern Hotel - the once famous and grand hotel (recently saved and currently under renovation) is the oldest in Calcutta and one of the oldest to be found anywhere in India
Monument to those who died in the "Black Hole of Calcutta"
St Andrew's Church
Calcutta General Post Office
Old China Bazar

On the way back from the walk I decided to take in a noon showing of a Bollywood movie, "Saheb Biwi aur Gangster Returns."  It was a "thriller" with a lot of plot and not much singing and dancing (which I prefer, surprise, surprise!), so it was a bit difficult to follow as I don't understand Hindi, but it was enjoyable all the same.  Love he intermission and every time someone in the movie lit up a cigarette a message would appear at the bottom of the screen, "Cigarette smoking is injurious to your health." They also ran some very graphic anti-smoking commercials during the intermission.  The ticket for a "dress circle" center aisle assigned seat was $2.21!  Two last things: people talk on their cell phones, loudly, during the movie and nobody else seems to mind and I saw a huge cockroach scurry across the aisle in front of me, so I felt a little itchy for the rest of the movie!

It's truly amazing observing the everyday life here as I walk around.  The mix of the "haves and the have nots" is fascinating.  And the daily coexistence of everyone is just amazing.  Walking around and absorbing my surroundings in just a few short days quickly reminds me of why I fell in love with this city the first time Bob and I visited in 2008 and during my subsequent visit in 2010.  The crazy honking of horns, the countless sleepy street dogs, the smells (some of the worse and some of the most wonderful I've ever smelled), the sight of men and boys of all ages bathing and brushing their teeth at street side pumps as men in suits and young guys in designer jeans and Nike sneakers are quickly passing by on their way to work or school, beggars - women with naked little children, men with missing limbs, uniformed school children all bright and shiny, street food vendors on almost every corner cooking the most amazing looking and smelling dishes (I so wish it were safe for me to eat it!) ..and it just goes on and on.  A never-ending dazzle of color and life.  It may sound extremely chaotic...and it is...but there seems to be such order to it all. 

So, a HUGE thank you to Bob for the great gift of this book and I look forward to doing most if not all of the other walks on my days off.

Monday, March 18, 2013

CATCH UP

OFF TO WORK

I've been so busy and have had limited access to wifi, so I'll be posting a few past days here, starting with...


Wednesday, March 13
Orientation Day

Monday, Wednesday and Friday at 3pm are orientation days for volunteering with Mother Teresa's organization.  It's takes place at Nirmal Shishu Bhavan (Home for Children).  I wasn't sure what to expect as far as how many other volunteers might show up on a given day, but I was surprised when over 30 people appeared.  We were broken up into groups by various languages - English, Japanese, Spanish, Korean and French.  A volunteer gave us the run down and asked us to read two double-sided sheets with guidelines about dress codes (don't show too much skin, shorts are okay but they should cover the knees), avoiding giving anything to street children or beggars, not to pet street dogs, etc.  She then explained the various facilities so you can decide where you want to volunteer.  I knew that I wanted to be at Nirmal Hriday ("Pure Heart").  This is the original home for the destitute and dying that Mother Teresa founded.  It's in the part of the city known as Kalighat.  This is a loud, buzzing, crazy place, mostly due to the close proximity to the Kali Temple.  I had visited the home both in 2008 and 2010 and from the first time I kept telling myself that I wanted to come here and volunteer for an extended period of time.  

Before leaving the orientation each person (or group of people - many people come with friends or a group and want to work together) had to sit and meet with one of the nuns and be given a pass that indicated which location you would be volunteering as well as a small silver charm of the Virgin Mary, which the Sister said a silent prayer over and kissed it before handing it to me.

They made it seem like you were required to show up at Mother House each morning and go to the work locations as a group.  I asked the Sister about that and she told me it wasn't required and I could go directly to work if I wanted.  She also said that since I was going to be here so long, it would be nice to see me at breakfast once in a while.  At least she didn't say 6am mass!  



Wednesday, March 13, 2013

OH, CALCUTTA!

No, not the musical, the city!

Happy to report I had a safe and uneventful journey.  I arrived Monday evening and when I stepped off the plane and walked down the stairs I was met with that familiar smell of something burning and the wall of humidity that I remember so well from the first time when Bob and I arrived herein 2008.  It put a huge smile on my face.

I was picked up by the gentleman that owns the apartment that I am renting, Suresh.  We arrived home to be greeted by his wife Nina.  I had been communicating with Nina via email for many weeks.  They are a lovely couple and after a quick tour of my apartment, right next door to their's, I took a nice hot shower and went over to their place for a lovely dinner.  Suresh's sister is here from Delhi, so she joined us as well.  It was a wonderfully relaxing way to start my time here.  

After dinner (homemade tomato soup, fresh local fish and vegetables - all delicious), Nina brought me back over to the apartment to give me the full tour.  It's a huge place!  A large living room (with cable tv) / dining room with an attached balcony, a big kitchen, two bedrooms and two bathrooms.  My first two nights have been very comfortable and knowing that I can come home to this place at the end of each day is a very welcome relief.

As expected, it's quite hot.  The temps is week are between 97-99.  Oh, the bedrooms have A/C, but I've just been using the ceiling fan and it's been cool enough for me.

Yesterday I spent the day getting to know the neighborhood and I found my way to the location for today's orientation for my work at Mother Teresa's.  I also spent over two hours in the Indian Museum.  Let's just say it's not up to western standards (as expected) but very enjoyable all the same.  On the way home I visited Park Street Cemetery (opened August 1767), a dark yet peaceful escape from the chaotic clamber of the streets.  Most of the graves are of British or other important Europeans that died in Calcutta.  It's full of overgrown monuments (so many obelisks!) and a lot of very loud ravens.  

The egg man came by the apartment today and I bought six eggs for 30 rupee (about 55 cents).

Looking forward to orientation today and starting work tomorrow.  


Saturday, March 9, 2013

This is my first post... and it's a good one to start with!  From Bloomberg News...

JetBlue, Air India Planes Bump on JFK Taxiway, Airline Says

JetBlue Airways Corp. (JBLU) plane and an Air India Ltd. aircraft bumped into each other on a taxiway at New York’s John F. Kennedy International Airport, causing some damage to the JetBlue plane’s rudder.
JetBlue Flight 145 had pushed back from the gate and its tow bar was being worked on when the Air India aircraft, en route to its gate, bumped the JetBlue craft, said JetBlue spokesman Alex Headrick. No one was injured in the incident, which occurred at 6:15 a.m. local time.
New York’s WABC-TV reported the Air India plane had some wingtip damage.
The Jet Blue passengers, bound for West Palm Beach, Florida, were boarded onto another aircraft that left at 9:43 a.m., according to JetBlue’s website. A phone call placed to Air India in New York went unanswered.
Yup - THAT WAS MY PLANE!  So my flight was delayed "indefinitely"...


Luckily I was able to grab an Air India employee who told me "off the record" that she did not think there was any way that this plane would be taking off today and they were trying to re-book people on a flight tomorrow, but they only had 40 available seats left.  Instead of getting on the ever growing line at the check-in counter, I noticed an Air India ticketing desk with only a few people waiting to be helped so I jumped on that and was quickly re-booked on the same flight leaving tomorrow.  So the start of my big adventure has been delayed by one day.  I figure it's just getting me ready for the certain delays, strikes, long lines and cancellations that await me as part of every day life in India.  At least it's a beautiful sunny day in New York!  Remaining calm and patient.  :-)