Well, my attempt at volunteering with the animals didn't pan out ... so next on the agenda was Mother Teresa's.
To start, let me describe the routine ... 3 pm every Monday, Wednesday, and Friday, any interested volunteers sign up at the Motherhouse. As usual, I wasn't sure what to expect and not even sure where, but started walking. It was about 20 minutes from my guesthouse, meandering through the streets of Calcutta. I had to keep asking which way, but quickly discovered everyone knows and kept pointing me generally in the right direction.
So I arrive, to a rather recently built, large building (with western toilets - of course I checked). They give us large laminated cards describing each of the houses ... we fill out a teensy form with our passport info and selected house. A more senior volunteer tells us about the whole process and what to do. And then we wait around until a sister calls us up one at a time and we get signed up. My choice ... Prem Dan, home of the long term care patients ... it seemed like our duties are a lot of laundry.
Next day really bright and early, that's 7 am bright and early, I arrive again at the Motherhouse where they provide a simple breakfast of a banana, chai, and a slice of the usual gawdawful Indian sliced stale white bread. I am shocked at the number of volunteers ...
there must well over 100 people. Everyone mills around until about 7:30, then they raise the gate and we walk off to our respective houses. Prem Dan is about half hour walk from the Motherhouse through the usual Indian streets, a slum area, and down some railway tracks.
Prem Dan seems to be one of the newer houses ... it's a large complex, functionally cement building, but rather nice. The place is spotless. The men are allowed to be outside and they greet us warmly as we walk in the door. It looks like there are maybe 60-70 women and probably an equal number of men that live there. I don't understand why, but the women aren't allowed to be outside in the sunshine.
After we come through the central outside area, we walk over to the women's section ... and no surprises ... laundry awaits! Never have I seen so much. Everything is washed every single day ... clothes, bedding, blankets ... you name it, it's washed! Sorted through for any pre-wash necessities (hmmm, I think that's a rather polite way of describing) ... hot water wash with soap (they're continually boiling the water, so smoke is burning our eyes) ... rinse #1 ... rinse #2 ... wringing out ... hanging to dry. Glad I got my tetanus shot because I
whacked my fingers a couple times on the rusted wash bins. Even with 15-20 of us women washing, it sometimes took us a couple hours to get through it all.
Then it's time with the patients ... they loved to have coconut oil massaged into their heads and skin. We take a short volunteer break for more chai, banana, and biscuit, and then it's time to serve lunch. Lunch = Total Chaos! The sisters bring out HUGE buckets of rice, some sort of curried vegetable stuff and occasionally some meat or fish, all of which they plop generous servings on tin plates. The volunteers distribute the plates, along a tin cup of water which they drink, but also use to wash their hands afterwards. Most of the patients aren't keen on waiting for anything and the sisters do their best to keep some semblance of order. The volunteers feed a few of the patients, but most do ok themselves. There's food flying and spilling everywhere. The once-spotless floor and benches are now covered in food. Then they're off for nap time while we wash dishes.
Later one afternoon I visited Khalighat, home for the dying. This is a much smaller and older facility ... woohoo, laundry was not involved! I spent my time mostly with two patients ... a feisty old woman with TB and another younger woman with AIDS. They chattered away at me in Bengali, I nodded with hopefully good timing, while I massaged oil into their hair and bodies.
Well that's sort of the facts as I saw them during my short few days volunteering ... what about my thoughts, my reactions. In traveling through India, I've heard many opinions about Mother Teresa, both good and bad, pro and con. I wasn't sure what I would see. So let me throw out my rather random thoughts .....
Not all the patients seemed to like being there since they are away from their family and friends (at least what I could garner from the few that spoke English). I understand they are allowed to leave, although discouraged to by the sisters.
There is no doctor and not much trained nursing care. The sisters know basic care only ... such as with maggots or lice, they are cleaned and bandaged. The medical care they receive is really in line with Mother Teresa's initial goal "to give wholehearted and free service to the poorest of the poor" ... coupled with helping them die in dignity. Is that the best thing, particularly for some diseases, such as TB, which have well accepted treatment regimens? I am torn in my thoughts, because if she did provide medical care, would they run out of funds to care for all the patients.
The sisters honor the religious beliefs of the patients and they are accorded their last rites in keeping with their faiths, predominantly Hindu and Muslim ... frequently you could see two sisters sitting with a patient saying their last rites. Although the sisters are keenly Catholic, they never proselytize their faith ... that is not their purpose.
It goes without saying there is frequent death. You would see the bodies wrapped near the washing area where I presume someone later came to take them away.
The patients were kept spotlessly clean and were allowed things of importance to them ... whether it be wearing the forehead dot or their jewelry. That said, their clothes were not their own. Most all had shaved heads or hair that was starting to grow out ... I presume to prevent lice.
As a volunteer, it was obviously difficult to understand anything going on. The sisters spoke minimal English, but most patients didn't and spoke either Hindi or Bengali. Some of them would chatter on ... many would touch your feet as a sign of respect. Many were fiercely independent even though they could only crawl on the floor to their cot.
With all that said, I cannot leave my Mother Teresa volunteer work without it affecting me in so many ways. Regardless of your viewpoint, no one comes away untouched or indifferent. I know I could not do this work for longer than I did ... I struggled in working with the women, so old, so frail, so skinny, some barely recognizable as human. Yet some of them, like the woman in this picture couldn't smile enough when she saw you.
Mother Teresa is unequivocally loved by the people of Calcutta. She has done so much for this city. Is her solution the best one? Could she have done things differently? Who's to say ... regardless she has accomplished so much with her single focus. I am honored to have spent a few short days helping where I could.
I'm back in the wonderful city of Mumbai. And back to my favorite restaurant ... uh, can you call a street side stand a restaurant? This one is amazing! Folk lore says the owner, Bademiya, once worked as a chef for the Taj Mahal right around the corner. They got in a tiff and he left, only to open up this little stand that sells the BEST kebabs ever. It may have started little, but it's now big business, taking over mostly the whole length of the street. When I say street, I mean that literally ... although he must have some extra kitchens somewhere since you see kids running to and from his stand carrying huge pots of food. The kebabs are all cooked right at the stall. No one drives up the street unless it's to get their order. And if you do drive up, the waiters prop up the hood with a up-ended soda bottle so everyone can use it as a table. The waiters are running around with small laminated menus around their necks. The pace is absolutely frenetic!
Really early the next morning, I head out to the not-to-be-missed Standard Chartered Mumbai Marathon, the largest marathon in Asia! What would a run be like in India ... I had to see this for myself! What a HUGE event. I understand there were 28,000 participants, 2,000 marathon runners, and 7,000 half-marathon runners ... and the rest doing a 5k. The race starts, with usual race-start fanfare. It was about 85 degrees, but with a whopping 60% humidity ... maybe I'm getting used to all this, because it seemed pretty pleasant, just a bit warm.
I wander over to some folks wearing sortof official looking shirts and asked about working the water stations ... and they point me in the direction of the finish line station. A wee bit different from US marathons! The offerings were water bottles and packets of digestive biscuits (that I have so come to know and love in India). We tried to say, "runners only" - somewhat of a pointless effort. At first, I didn't understand exactly why there were two cops staying with us at the water station. And then as the day progressed, the crowds began pushing against our tables ... we kept the water and biscuits behind us, well back from the crowd until we saw a runner approaching. The other Indian volunteers had me stand in back of them. Periodically, the cops cracked their long batons against the table ... the crowd scattering for maybe 10 seconds. Finally the race organizers shut the water station, probably more for crowd safety than any other reason ... at the four hour mark. 
