Part 3 -D Calcutta: Volunteer's day off

August 13, 2009

I woke up quite early and went to 6am mass at Mother House. It was all in English, but from all the honking outside it was a little difficult to hear. During the distribution, I went up to receive a blessing, and even though I crossed my arms over my chest as they had instructed us if we weren't Catholic, the priest still tried to give me Eucharist. I had to tell him I'm not Roman Catholic. It was very encouraging to me, I guess he recognized my spirit over and above my gesture to indicate that I only wanted a blessing.

After Mass I stayed for a little while longer to pray, and then went back to the baptist mission for breakfast.
Thursdays are always a day off for volunteers. So I decided to spend the day writing as many postcards as I could. I found some postcards at a shop, but the only cards that weren't some buddhist or hindu temple or shrine, were of Mother Teresa with a halo. So I got a bunch of those.

I also thought I wanted to try to use the internet. I was told there was an internet cafe across from the entrance to Mother House, so after breakfast I headed out in the rain to go and see. When I arrived, I found the place, but it was closed. The sisters at the door of Mother House saw me, and they said that the man who runs the place had probably gone out somewhere, so they invited me to wait in the entryway with them.

They regularly have two sisters serving as doorkeepers, to welcome visitors and show them where to go to see Mother Teresa's grave. I don't remember what all I did while I was waiting there because I never journaled about it and now it has been more than eight months since it happened. I think I read my bible a little, but mostly sat and prayed. It wasn't really the thing to do to chat with the sisters, but they did politely ask me a few questions. I watched how they greeted people, and how they gave a little medallion to every visitor that came. At first, I peeked outside regularly to see if the internet cafe was open, but after a while, I gave up trying.

At one point, the sisters became very busy with lots of visitors coming in, so when yet another visitor came in and they weren't able to help her right away, I greeted her. She had just arrived in Calcutta and wanted to see Mother Teresa's grave, so I showed her the way and explained where to take off her shoes and everything. Later on, the sisters were still busy and she almost left without ever talking to them, but I got one of the medallions for her, briefly confirming with one of the sisters who was busy. The lady was so moved and grateful, she was in tears.

A bishop came to visit, and so one of the sisters had to escort him in, and then someone else came looking for someone, so that sister had to go, and she asked me if I would stay and watch the door! So I sat alone for a while, greeting visitors and showing them in to Mother Teresa's tomb. I felt it to be a marvelous privilege. But it does seem that they will ask a volunteer to do that from time to time.

"I would rather be a doorkeeper in the house of my God than dwell in the tents of the wicked." -Psalm 84:10b

Eventually, the sisters were not so busy anymore and returned to their post, and by then I was really enjoying sitting in the doorway. It was a rather wide space, hard to describe, like a big room that was open on one side into a courtyard, which was where visitors were to take their shoes off. In the end, one of the sisters said that the internet cafe was open again, but at that time it was so crowded that there were people waiting to use it, so I waited at Mother house for a little while longer. Finally I went and used the internet.

For the rest of the day, I sat on my bed in the Baptist mission, writing postcards. One of my roommates, the Indian lady, who has a beautiful Indian name, but for her privacy I will call her Pam, was also in the room. She was talking on her cell phone and I was not paying attention. But eventually she shared her anguished story with me, which I will also keep private. Needless to say, it opened the door for me to share the Gospel with her and to pray with her. So I was glad I was there.

I ate all of my meals in the cafeteria of the Baptist mission. It was Indian food, but not very spicy at all, almost as if they had intentionally made it more bland to accommodate the foreign visitors who eat there. It was very convenient, and gave me the opportunity to meet more of the Christian volunteers who were staying there. At one of the meals, I met and talked with three American women, but at that time I didn't memorize their names. Thursday was just a very good day of rest.