Volunteering with the Missionaries of Charity in Kolkata

Kolkata, India; where 70,000 people sleep on the street every night.  A city of rickshaws, Hindu temples, and the best meal you have ever tasted in your life for 75 cents.  I live on Sudderstreet, a small road in the heart of the city where the few tourists (really only hardcore backpackers and volunteers) who come through Kolkata stay.  The city air probably contains more smog and humidity than oxygen and the temperature never deviates far from 100.  Walking down any random street you will encounter more people than you can look at, be pushed out of the way, shouted and honked at, pass an open sewer that smells like an open sewer right after a food stand that appears to your nose to be cooking pieces of Heaven, you will see beggars and merchants and piles of garbage and maybe even a cow, all within 5 minutes. 

I pay 200 Rupees a night for my hotel ($3.30) and average around another 200 Rupees for all other living expenses including food, internet, transportation, and the occasional cup of chai.  I work 6 days a week for the Missionaries of Charity and use my spare time to learn Bengali, play my banjo, and hang out with other volunteers.  I meet new and interesting people every day from almost every country (though the US is conspicuously underrepresented) ranging from a German doctor bicycling around the world to a Korean from a farming village on his first two week trip abroad. 

The first couple weeks my volunteer work was in Prem Dan, a long term care facility for the handicapped, sick, and dying street people who have nobody to care for them.  I helped with daily chores like laundry and dishes, assisted people in using the toilet or changing clothes, and fed or wheeled around those who needed it.  When the work was slow I sat and talked to the patients who knew English and listened to their stories.  It is rewarding work and I loved every minute of it, beautiful because it is made possible only by volunteers who are there not for pay but for the people they are serving. 

After a couple weeks I was “drafted” into a different ministry technically independent of the Missionaries of Charity.  Unfortunately I am not at liberty to share any details of that work but I can say that as a big part of it we are responsible for finding the people that the Missionaries of Charity admits into their facilities such as Prem Dan.  It is the front of the front lines so to speak.  Josh and I will be trained to take over this whole ministry in about one more month’s time.  It is an incredible and unexpected opportunity and challenging in the best way possible. 

The Missionaries of Charity is an amazing organization.  I remember having read a few blogs that were critical of the Sister’s facilities and care so I would like to say that I have found those criticisms to be totally unfounded.  Mother Teresa’s practice of treating every poor or hurting person as if they were Jesus has truly carried on throughout the Missionaries of Charity and it is apparent as soon as you walk through the gate.  While it is definitely no luxury resort, even by Kolkata standards, there is no comparison to homelessness on the streets.  Each person is treated with respect and cared for lovingly. 

Overall I would have to say that I love Kolkata and the work that I do with the Missionaries of Charity, as opposite as it is from life in the States or Spain.  Though it is a place of extreme poverty and widespread hopelessness, there is a unique beauty in the daily life, relationships, and even run-down streets that is hard to explain and that cannot be found anywhere else. However, it does take some getting used to.  I wouldn’t necessarily recommend it for just a week or two, unless you have a lot of experience overseas already.  If you have any questions about the MC or are thinking about volunteering feel free to email me Brantliveson@gmail.com.  God bless! 

Sunil Goes Home

One of the first days we were in Kolkata Josh and I were walking down a dusty back alleyway when a man with a limp greeted us.  “Hello!  How are you liking Kolkata?”  “It’s great,” I said, “and you?”  “Actually I am not liking Kolkata.”  And that is how we came to know Sunil.  Sunil is originally from Varanasi where he grew up poor and illiterate but at least he had family.  His leg got injured and infected some years ago and he found help at the Missionaries of Charity.  It was there that he learned English and became a Christian.  Just a few months ago he lost his boat license (he worked as a river tour guide in Varanasi) and so at the age of 38 decided to move to Kolkata to look for work.  Kolkata, however, as is the case for most job-seekers and refugees had been a disappointment; his injured leg got hit by a motorcycle, no work was to be found, and he was reduced to living with his two children and his wife on the street; living off of free rice distributions. 

Visiting with Sunil in his "home"

It was two in the afternoon and sweat was rolling down my back in the 100+ degree heat as I sat on the stained cardboard laid out hospitably for me on the sidewalk.  It was the third time I had visited Sunil and his wife and I was truly enjoying our conversation.  People walking by had stopped to stare at two white people sitting on a curb talking to a brown homeless man until a small crowd was assembled.  Two bags of rice and one bag of photos and hospital bills hung on the gate above our heads, the extent of his possessions.  Josh leaned over and asked if I wanted to buy them train tickets back to Varanasi.  I nodded.  We slipped Sunil 700 Rupees (about $10) and suddenly hope was restored and another chance began.  Sunil took the next day’s train with his family and plans to sell his boat in Varanasi, move into his Grandmother’s house, and start a Chai shop. 

Sunil was trying to explain to his friend how to operate the camera

It is amazing what can happen when you are in the right place at the right time.  Sunil happened to speak English, be devoid of friends, and lack what was to us a very meager amount of money in order to quickly change all of his circumstances.  You can call it good luck or good timing but I think it was a Divine encounter.  I have found through my missions experience that these kind of solutions are not so easily solved unless God is directly involved.  The sad part of the story of course is that by helping a friend we lost him; however, next time I find myself in Varanasi I have half a journal page of directions to guide me to a second home and all the Chai I can drink.  

Why Does God Allow Pain and Suffering to Exist?

Walking into Prem Dan (a long-term convalescent facility run by the Missionaries of Charity) is like diving into a pool of clear, cool water in the middle of a summer day in Phoenix.  On one side of the gate is a chaotic dirt street strewn with garbage, honking rickshaws, and clouds of flies.  On the other is a peaceful and spotlessly clean oasis with little Indian nuns smiling while they quietly attend to their chores and patients.  The life of a handicapped poor person in Kolkata is pure misery, consisting of begging on the sidewalk to other poor people at best and a slow death due to neglect at worst.  Prem Dan provides food, shelter, love, and care for those with no options in life. 

Prem Dan from behind (the blue building)

Four hours into my first day volunteering at Prem Dan I knelt on my knees under the shade of an awning and slowly fed an aged crippled man his lunch of rice and greens.  As I held the spoon and waited for him between bites I thought about what an incredible privilege it is for me to have this opportunity to help change lives.  Here is a loving facility already in place with the neediest people already found and admitted, daily routines already set, supplies already bought, and management already in control.  All I have to do is show up and I get to provide a basic need for someone who has intrinsic and complete dependence on someone else for even just survival.  This is a man who regardless of initiative, willpower, or hard work simply has no way to care for himself, who without someone’s help would die in just a couple days.  And this man isn’t unimportant.  He has just as much value as Barack Obama or the Pope or my mom or Jesus.  And here I am totally unskilled but willing to offer just a little bit of my time to sit and lift some rice and greens to his mouth and give him a side-hug and just as simple as that, I have relieved a little bit of his suffering and changed his life, even if only by a very small amount.

Maybe that’s why pain and suffering exist.  Maybe it’s not a cruel necessity of life, but an opportunity for someone to find fulfillment and joy through service and love.  Instead of looking at the suffering of someone less fortunate and seeing it as the inevitable curse of life or a lapse of God’s goodness, maybe we should look at the suffering of someone less fortunate and see it as an opportunity to love and be blessed, an opportunity to relieve that suffering.  If it is really better to give than to receive then someone else’s dependency on you is a blessing; and if everyone who was able was consistently helping to relieve suffering then I suppose suffering would no longer exist.  We would be left with only inter-dependence and a whole lot of love.

Unfortunately, no pictures are allowed inside Prem Dan, but here is a picture of a man making our lunch yesterday - "egg rolls"

The Bible says pure and undefiled religion is to visit people who have no one else in their affliction and that someday everybody who has ever lived is going to be gathered together and Jesus will say to some, “Come you who are blessed by my Father, inherit the kingdom prepared for you from the foundation of the world.  For I was hungry and you fed me, I was thirsty and you gave me drink, I was a stranger and you welcomed me, I was naked and you clothed me, I was sick and you visited me, I was in prison and you came to me.”  Now, if these blessings were prepared from the foundation of the world, it means God knew there would be hungry, thirsty, dependent people before Adam ever bit into that Gala apple, but that He planned it that way for the benefit of all.

Now don’t get me wrong, I am not proposing that the fall of man plays no part in suffering, or that sin isn’t cause for some, if not all, pain; I am only trying to say that overall in the big picture maybe the reason God purposefully created a world that contains the potential for pain and suffering is because it allows more potential for love and blessing to exist, and that on a practical, day to day level we need to stop letting the pain and suffering of others become a reason to doubt the goodness of life or God and instead let it become the incredible opportunity that it is to receive blessing and experience love. It may sound idealistic but that is the opportunity I am offered constantly here in Kolkata and the reality I experienced yesterday as I knelt on the concrete floor in the sweltering heat and smiled at the grunt of gratitude from the elderly homeless man for my simple help with his lunch.  

Let Me Introduce You to India

Late last night, after almost a week of travel, I finally made it to Kolkata. So much has happened during my first 5 days in India it would probably take a proper book to relate all the stories, so instead of a narrative I have decided to introduce you to a few of the people I've met.

In Agra

Josh Clodfelter was the first person I met in India. He was waiting just outside of the Delhi aiport with a big smile to welcome me. Josh is my closest friend from Spain, a fellow Kansan, a brother in every positive sense of the word, and will be with me throughout my stay in India.

Josh hanging out the door on a train

Raj is a taxi driver. At least that is what he wanted me to believe. In reality Raj cons tourists by taking them to a closed road and tells them that the city is inaccessible and they will have to stay at an unreasonably priced hotel. We bribed Raj to take us back to the airport so we could start completely over after a 3 hour ordeal.

Trains in India stay full - we have spent 37 hours on trains so far

Veanish is a nice guy born and raised in Delhi who takes a public bus home after his flight attendant shift ends at 3:30 AM. At 31 he is happily married through his parent's arrangement to a Christian woman from Goa and they now have one child. Veanish told us where to go and how to escape the scammers at New Delhi train station.

Inside our sleeper train car

On the way to Agra I made contact with another man, or rather he made contact with me. Unfortunately I never got his name. If I had I would have immediately turned him into the police seeing as how he stole my wallet.

Alam is a tuk tuk driver and tour guide at the Taj Mahal. He keeps a guestbook so that his customers can read his praises in whatever language they happen to speak. He drives his tuk tuk at break neck speed, sometimes down the wrong side of the road. Alam was such a good guide and charged such a fair price (and he let me drive the tuk tuk) we tipped him almost double. He was confounded.

Josh and Alam in front of the Taj Mahal

Priddy is a middle aged woman who owns a textile shop. She invited us in declaring we were guests, not customers, gave us chai, and then sewed up my ripped pants free of charge. She told us to call our mothers.

Kyle is a Canadian backpacker who ran out of money but whose flight was in just a couple days. We met him on a train and invited him to sleep on our hotel floor. He gladly accepted and said if all Christians were as nice as we were he might listen for God.

Our hotel room

Farah is a Malaysian girl traveling with her aunt who had been to see the Taj Mahal. She wants to travel the world but is scared she may not enjoy it and doesn't want to upset her parents. She was my bunk mate on the 30 hour train ride to Kolkata and started a conversation by offering me two samosas. She got ripped off so badly and so often she left India a week earlier than planned. She paid 3000 rupees for her trip to Kolkata at a fake ticket office; I paid 500 ($8) thanks to Veanish.

Me and Farah

Sunil is from Varanasi. His leg is all torn up and he is missing most of his teeth. He is one of the hundreds of beggars we have met on the street. We bought him some powdered milk for his daughter and will hopefully meet his family tomorrow morning at ten. Sunil asked us to pray with him and told us how he met Jesus at a clinic started by Mother Teresa.

Josh with his bunkmates on our 30 hour ride to Kolkata

There are a lot more people I could talk about but I think they will have to wait their turns for another blog. If India is lacking anything it surely makes up for it in people. There are so many stories to hear, so many smiles to match, and so many friends to make I barely have time to see India. (That's a not-seeing-the-forest-for-the-trees joke by the way). Welp, tomorrow is orientation at the Missionaries of Charity so I best be going to bed. Goodnight and God bless.

-Brant

The Unknown

The other day I got an email from a friend and in reply to my expression of impatience she told me that eight days didn't sound like long to her. I guess that's true, eight days isn't that long to wait to go somewhere for six months, but right now it feels like an eternity. This trip to India has been a dream of mine for years and to say I'm excited would be a severe understatement. I suppose I should try to keep my expectations modest but the possibilities seem endless.

I love the unknown. There is nothing more exciting than a pitch black void. When someone tells you they got you a gift you get excited. You wonder if it's a card or a TV or a tractor or maybe a private jet. It could be anything. If you are looking for a job it's an exciting place to be. Who knows what you might find, maybe a taste-testing position that pays 80k a year. I remember one time I was exploring a jungle in Thailand and I kept coming across caves. Each time I would stare at the black hole in front of me as I fought through the foliage to reach the opening and I would wonder just how deep this one would be. It might open up to a giant cavern. The dark unknown held so many possibilities.  As I shone my headlamp around the cave it revealed the unknown. The cave would go from endless possibilities to one specific dimension. Sometimes it was disappointing because of how small the cave was but sometimes the light would be swallowed up or end at a turn or reveal a colony of bats. Whatever the cave held was exciting but the unknown was pure imagination.

Finding a Cave

Inside the Cave

This blog is for everyone struggling with the unknown. Don't be afraid of it; embrace the possibilities and enjoy this unique time when your imagination determines your destiny. The dark is exciting.
India is six months of unknown. Who knows what my headlamp is going to reveal. I hope to see lives changed, myself changed, God showing up when I can't do it without Him, literal miracles. So yes, right now, eight days seems like forever.

Thank you everyone for your continued support and prayers! I hope to be blogging much more consistently when I get to India.