New Places with Older Faces :)

So I decided to post a little insight as to my afternoon on here because I, like a few others before me, have made the crossover today between young and old. In other words, I switched it up from going from my usual ShiShu Bhavan orphanage to Kalighat, Mother Theresa's first home where several of my fellow SMC group members frequent daily. Kalighat is a home for the sick and the dying, much different than my usual mornings spent coloring and discovering how many animals I can create with Play-doh. I prepared myself for the worst before going because despite being twenty years old I'm still plagued with the child-like fear of old people. This, combined with the graphic descriptions Heather, Jerry, Eric, and Helen usually give of the open wounds and sores or scares of TB, made me anticipate the worst.

Even walking into Kalighat, I immediately sensed a very different atmosphere. I am used to being greeted by screaming children climbing on top of me like a jungle gym, but at Kalighat the majority of the patients are confined to their beds all day long. Some beckoned me over as I walked by, but several could not even talk and tried to motion with feeble limbs something they wanted, the ones who could talk spoke no English. I felt lost and confused, concerned the patients urgently needed to sit up, eat or drink something, go to the bathroom, or some other necessity that I might miscomprehend and result in a crisis. Heather must have come to my rescue 9 or 10 times, constantly assuring me everyone was fine and simply wanted to talk. She was also excited to introduce me to her aforementioned favorite, Agnes. However, Agnes was in a grumpy/miserable mood this afternoon and in between crying shooed us and the other volunteers away. I helplessly tried lifting several patients to give them their medicine, but didn't know if I was hurting an unseen wound or ache on their fragile bodies.

Just when I had lost all hope in my ability to aid anyone at Kalighat, two women in beds next to each other beckoned me over. I began my struggle with understanding what they needed, but instead one reached out just to hold my hand as the other one rested her head in my lap. I sat for a few moments, unsure of whether this too might be body language for breathing or some other illness; but eventually realized the women just wanted to be in my company. I relaxed my posture, settling into content silence with the two. The one in my lap shifted trying to get comfortable, noticed my handhold with the other woman, and broke our two hands apart. I smiled and when she looked away reached for the other's hand again, which the first woman soon dismissed again! We played this game back and forth for a few minutes before I got up to hand out dinner. Something must be in the mango's here, because Agnes was a different woman after hers. Heather and I spent the rest of our time there joking around with her. Her sly laughter was contagious, as were the tricks she pulled on us grabbing our aprons and undoing our shoe buckles. Once she began talking she wouldn't shut up! Despite the fact that it was all in Bengali, I felt entertained nonetheless by her animated storytelling.

It certainly was a drastic change for me to go from being around new life to old life in a matter of a few hours, but my afternoon at Kalighat showed me that even the sick and dying in Kolkata have unique and positive outlooks on life. People like Agnes try to embrace their situation as best as possible by spreading cheer throughout the volunteers which is very admirable when considering the circumstances they are in. Though my energy was not quite as high in Kalighat as I'm used to, it was challenging and yet insightful to channel it in a different way and I'm really glad I was able to experience Mother Theresa's "first love" today at Kalighat.

Love,
Christine