India 2017: oops we did it again

On Sunday morning we finally got our butts out of bed early to see the infamous flower market. This post would be a bajillion times better if I had remembered my camera this morning, but I forgot it.  I've explained previously how Hindus regularly purchase flowers as offerings to various gods/altars/shrines. They will also hang flowers from mirrors of cars and busses. Flowers and religion go hand in hand for Hindus. It raises questions on the relationship between economics and religion. I daresay the Indian lower class/caste would be in dire straits if, impossibly, Hinduism was abolished. Is this reason to maintain status quo? People eat daily because of the selling of offerings. There is plenty more to be initiated on this topic. Maybe another time. We visited the flower market under the Howrah bridge. We were told about this during our second week here and were told to be on a bus by 4:30am to get there before the crowds. We did no research on our own and truste...

Garbage cans are rare so when I saw this at a park, I laughed. But this park is different than the Kolkata norm. More on that later. Garbage cans are rare so it is common, assumed, expected and normal to throw your garbage in the street. I've seen folks toss boxes, food scraps, you name it, into the street. When volunteering at one of the pre-schools teresa even saw a child in a classroom bring a piece of garbage to what looked like a garbage can but the massi, a working adult, told him to throw it outside. As you can likely imagine, Kolkata streets are pretty dirty. But they aren't always, and this is where things get interesting. One day teresa and I stayed on the bus too long and then got off at the next opportunity, which meant new things to see and learn.  We got off in front of a garbage compactor where there were maybe 5 people with metal carts full of garbage. We'd often seen these metal carts and their pushers throughout the city streets. These ...

Teresa and I stop traffic regularly, but not at all because of our appearance. We walk into traffic and put our hands on cars to stop them. We both have travel experience so we came in bolder than many other travellers but our boldness has increased exponentially. Traffic here is stupid and drives us nuts. There is constant honking. The word constant was chosen intentionally. Everyone constantly fights for every inch of space. Lanes are irrelevant and it makes sense that the little people in my class don't know how to form lines because drivers don't either. Competing for limited space are auto rickshaws, foot rickshaws (men running/carrying carts), bicycle rickshaws, yellow taxis, Uber's, dogs, busses, cars, motorcycles and mopeds and pedestrians.  The timid and hesitant will not survive in India. To get places you need to be aggressive and boldly go where no man has gone before, or just follow his lead. Step into traffic. Hold up your hand ...

Our days are fuller now and we think we're okay with that. We still eat toast and boiled eggs in the hotel restaurant daily and we still enjoy that. This is a two-fold blessing: we appreciate having breakfast included in our hotel costs and we appreciate continuing to enjoy the same breakfast. We still hop on one of the same three buses/routes. We have learned that we like one more than the others. Teresa prefers the one that seems to be the fastest. I prefer the one that, I think, has the greatest variety of things to observe. We're true to our personalities. Teresa likes efficiency. I like context, detail and variety even at the expense of time. We still walk by Kali temple. We still walk by a bajillion stands all seemingly trying to sell the same things: sound-making shells, various flowers, brightly coloured powder, incense, bracelets, various icons and other paraphernalia to offer to the god(s) at the altars and temples. We still walk by parades of men dressed in b...

Growing up I remember being exposed to Monty Python. My first memory of it was in my grade 11 history class with the wise Mr. Richard Vanderkloet. After this exposure I began to notice my dad's love for Monty Python-ic humour at home. Recently, ie the Sunday before I left on this journey, my parents, Seth, Brady (two of my brothers) and I spent some time watching Monty Python skits. (Sidebar: highly recommend Silly Walks, Argument Clinic, Dead Parrot..then we got distracted and watched some Carol Burnett/Mrs. Wiggins skits). What does this have to do with anything? The title of this blog is Monty Pythonic: "And Now For Something Completely Different". We have spent our mornings at Kalighat. If you don't know what this means, check out earlier blogs. Essentially we're caring for, mostly, elderly patients. Before I we left I visited with some dear friends, Bruce and Barb Broadbent. Their son, Justin, had volunteered in India previously. He worked at Kalighat as ...

On Monday I headed off the to the home as per usual, but today was anything but usual. It started wonkily by the bus taking double time due to the aggressive rain. There were a bunch of newbies on Monday morning who kept asking if it always took so long and why it was taking so long. Rain. That's all. Since we got to the home later than usual, we had to hustle to get laundry and beds done and, for some reason, there seemed to be a lot more beds to be made. After this I, and a Chinese friend, began our exercises with one of our 4 patients, Kanon. We were working on massaging and stretching her legs when I noticed  something "off" on a bed close by. I left the exercises to get closer. A Sister was praying over a lady. Another was doing chest compressions. Constant muttering of words. Death struck. Then. There. On a simple, green-sheeted cot. The Lord's Prayer was recited by those around. It wasn't "a usual suspect". It wasn't bed sore lady. ...

Gonna keep it real and light. We've fallen in love with 5 rupee (10 cent) samosas on the street. For 20 or maybe 30 cents we're content. This week I'm going to hit up some street fried chiicken and flavoured noodles. Sundays after church we go to Au Bon Pain, a bakery and cafe, for the afternoon and read. This is another reason I like Sundays. (Sidebar: on this trip I've read "Tuesdays with Morrie" as I do every July, "First Phone Call From Heaven" (another by Mitch Albom), "My Gal Sunday" (Mary Higgins Clark), "Kite Runner" and am currently reading "The Book Thief".) This past Sunday I went a little nuts food-wise. I got a glass noodle salad that had chicken, peas and various fresh peppers and loved it. It's interesting to see how much I miss fresh. Just fresh. Then later (we were at the cafe from 11-6 or so) I got the breakfast platter: orange juice, a bagel toasted with butter, a fruit cup (SO exciting: pap...

It continues to rain. We've been here for three Sundays so far. The first one was spent volunteering at the home. After one week, however, we realized that we weren't really needed. There were plenty of extra Sisters on hand to help out and they had mass from 10-11 which, because we didn't attend, meant a lengthy break for us. Since we're only there from 8-12, we decided we were superfluous. As such we attended a Protestant church, the Assembly of God church, for the past two Sundays as per a recommendation from a friend, Josh Scholten. Last week we thought the service entitled, "Fusion" sounded fun so we went to that one. Had we spent a nanosecond researching we would have realized that it was aptly named as it was a fusion between English and Hindi. Even still it was interesting to sing Hindi worship songs and it was good to hear the sermon in two languages. Today we went to an earlier contemporary service that was only English. In both weeks we sang ...

It is monsoon season. It rains. Often. There's thunder and rain. Thankfully much of it happens overnight: it seems to always be raining at night. We have not yet opted to buy an umbrella. We're managing. Yesterday while on the bus I noticed something new; many locals wear plastic bags on their heads in the rain. I can't definitively say why but my guess is it has something to do with the seemingly ever-present orange dye in the hair of many. Regardless of purpose, it fondly reminded me of my grandma and Beppe (a Frisian term for grandma) as they would wear fancy plastic hair covers in the rain to protect their "done" hair. The rain continues to bring out the bathers: full on shampooing in the streets. We've gotten a bit posh lately. Dunkirk is playing in a fancy mall here (Quest mall) and, being a lover of history, I really wanted to see it. We had walked to this mall before (a 20 minute walk) but with the rain we decided to experiment with Uber. It was...

Teresa and i enjoyed our regular restaurant breakfast: boiled eggs and toast. We enjoyed the Mother House breakfast as long as we could (plain bread and bananas) but then our senses got the best of us: we are paying for the hotel breakfast anyways. Because hotel breakfast starts at the same time as the volunteer gathering, we can not do both. We now eat at the hotel, don't meet with the other volunteers every morning, and head to Kalighat on our own. As we emerged from the hotel after breakfast Teresa remarked about the lighter traffic. I hadn't really noticed. We waited for a bus. As we did so I recognized a fellow volunteer hail a cab. My face likely betrayed my thoughts: idiot, take the bus, it's so much cheaper. When a classic yellow cab stopped, he waved us over, recognizing us in return. I asked teresa if she wanted to take the cab and got a confident "no" in return. He was insistent and said something about buses not coming. I headed over, an extra 50 cen...

I have a colleague, Richard Peters, who would do well to enter Kalighat, even once, and in his joyful exuberance greet the room with his infamous, "Ladies!"  Let's be honest, he'd get a multitude of blank stares, but he'd also get some yelling, I'm sure. As mentioned previously, Teresa and I spend much of our time interacting. She moves about whereas I throw myself on a bench right in the middle of the fun. I'm often fearful that a neighbour will pee and my absorbent shorts will be called into action, but this has not yet happened. Here are some of the ladies we have the pleasure of interacting with. Note: we know few names so we've made some up and none are meant to be derogatory. Maya Singh: we've talked about her previously. She has many gaping bed sores. She used to spend the majority of her time wincing and crying but there is expressive joy now. We're pretty confident that she knows who we are. We're pretty confident that she k...

It has been two weeks and, for the record, my initial impression of this place is very different then reality. Whenever I saw pictures of this place (which weren't many as photos in the building are strictly prohibited) there were rows of beds with what appeared to be immoveable, dying patients with Sisters and volunteers at their side. This is not real life. From a google search: Although I am only there for four hours a day, during those four hours most of the ladies (and men on the other side) are sitting up the entire time. They brush their teeth (or have it done for them), many feed themselves, they have snack, men get shaved or haircuts, those that can move will have walking time, and some interact with each other. This is the home for the dying and destitute, yes, but it is a different atmosphere than I had anticipated. If you look at these ladies (and men) then some of our Ontario nursing homes can also be called homes for the dying and destitute, to a point.  I am not ...

I have hesitated to write about what goes on at Kalighat on a daily basis. I am not entirely sure why; there is nothing going on there that I'm afraid of, however, I think I hesitated to commit my thoughts and impressions publicly as I knew initial impressions never see a complete story. It is Wednesday. We have volunteered for about ten mornings so far. Thursdays are off for all volunteers and we decided to go to a Protestant church this past Sunday: that left ten other mornings since we registered. I have previously written about the regular routine: essentially we begin by making beds, doing laundry by hand or helping them brush their teeth (or tooth as is also quite common). After this there is a general hanging out with the ladies: colouring, nail painting, giving medicine, dressing wounds and physical therapy. We have break from 10:30-11 and at 11 it is lunch time and then bed. Throughout all of this there are ladies who need help going to the bathroom: either physically...