Freedomizeindia

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2011-05-24T04:07:00.001-04:00

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Back in Toronto

2007-06-02T15:39:00.000-04:00

I've been back in Canada for about a week now.

Last Monday I woke up in my own bed. I took a day off to shake off jetlag.
Everything seemed unfamiliar, yet comforting. I used cologne for the first time in a month. I walked down Queen St to get a cup of coffee, transfixed by the width and cleanliness of our streets. And so many less people. I walked by a pair of "homeless" dudes with a sign saying "Why lie? Spare change for Pot". It was so weird, because they had running shoes and jeans on. The last homeless people I saw before this were in Kolkata, and they were wearing rags. I had to remind myself not to judge the two dudes, but part of me was shouting at them, "You think YOU'VE got it bad?".

The challenge, now- is to step forward. To find and pray for a way to give of my time to fill needs here in Toronto. Real needs. It's been said that our poverty in North America is that of the heart.

I think I believe this, and I add myself to this bunch. This trip was spiritually life-altering and more then a bit challenging. But the real challenge now, is to honour what I've seen, and the little things that I have done. I would ask this of my teammates, the 18 or so I worked and walked beside for three weeks in India: Challenge me. Don't let me forget what I saw. Encourage me to take up my own cross here in my own town, and walk with it. Do this for me- I promise to do the same for you.

Blake

salut!

2007-05-30T06:57:00.001-04:00

alanna says:

okay, so I apparently suck a blogging and keeping people in the India loop while in India.. so I'm going to stop vacuuming for a second (aka sucking) and try to 'blog' for you fi3ies.

.. well, since everything is kind of hard to put into words here, be kind on my literary skills ..

I am not offering any kind of story or piece of wisdom directly related to volunteering, or the poor, etc., but going back to my selfish North Amerian roots I will talk about me me me and what I have learned.. but wait, I may redeem myself.

Being in India, I've found, is much like being in a relationship of sorts - give, take, compromise, love. You learn about yourself, and you realize what you do not yet know. Some of the things you figure out about yourself are pleasantly surprising and some .. not so much. One of the great things about being here, though, is that you DO think about these things, and you approach them with Christ at your side. It's been interesting getting to know myself in a new light. Jam and Rachel made the team write out a bunch of fill in the blanks: I am what I am, but I am ______. I feel like I've been playing this game the whole trip, just laying it all out on the line. God is pretty much telling you to do laundry with your heart and then take a nice big drink of the dirty water you just wrung out into the red and white tie die bucket Karl purchased for 50 ruppees. Needless to say, it's a kick in the ass. [Team Two, prepare for total domination (.. oh yes, said like the beginning of that remix song in Bring it On .. ) ha.]

I am so glad to have gotten to know India, intimately and interactively. And as much as it sucks facing yourself and facing certain aspects of your life that aren't so Christ-like, it's so important to become aware of these things, ask the questions that hide in the shadows and would rather be left alone, and let Christ read your little black moleskin with all your 'I AM ____" statements that you wouldnt entrust in anyone elses hands.

Doing these excercises, it's really easy to get on the negative train track re: yourself, as most of us learned. It's so important, as I said earlier, to be aware of our imperfection (ouch!) and actively work with and in and for and all about Christ to be him and see him and be in his presence, but one can't always be so depressing. Someone once told me that humility is not thinking less of yourself, but thinking of yourself less. And so explcit lesson #1: as crapy as we are, we are God's creations and we are good. And so the last of my I AM's were quite redeeming. Despite the lame things we do in our lives, and blah blah blah.. I am loved. I am forgiven.

Huzzuh!

I wish could give you some foreign goodbye line, but I gots nothing.. so I leave you with the mental image of Rose in the middle of a circle of people trying to act nonchalent about the fact that she is hiding amongst them peeing in a cut off-bottle at the Varanasi train station. Sick.. as in gross.. and funny.

love.

alanna.

Liz - update

2007-05-29T05:10:00.000-04:00

3:14am Sunday, May 20

Greetings friends!! It is May 20th and I have been in India for just over two weeks. It feels more like two months but I am truly enjoying this experience and am not eager to leave it in a month's time. India is painfully beautiful. Before arriving in Kolkata, we visited Agra and Varanasi. We explored the Taj Mahal in all its splendor... no wonder why it is one of the seven wonders of the world. On with the update...

VOLUNTEERING: I have been working at a Shanti Dan which is a home for mentally and physically handicapped women. I came to love and serve, but the women have shown me so much love and I have felt entirely served by them. There are four HIV positive children who also live on the compound with the women. They are so beautiful and full of life. If I could, I would pack Philip in my suitcase and bring him home with me. I also spent one afternoon working at Mother \nTeresa's first establishment, Kalighat. This place is a home for the destitute and dying. Some of the souls there seem spirited and yet most are so broken. I enjoyed singing to this one wee lady known as 'Ma'. She seems to be fairly mentally aware but physically she is very tiny and frail. I also fed this other fragile lady. All of these encounters are humbling and eye opening to the struggles of our fellow man. Looking into the eyes of the poor is like looking into the eyes of Jesus. It's peaceful and beautiful, but not without sorrow. \u003cbr\>Yesterday, we ran a camp for children at this centre called New Light. This is a place started by a couple of locals to care for children whose mothers are prostitutes in the red light area of Kolkata. It's like a day care and the mission is to: promote gender equality through education and life-skill training, thereby reducing the harm caused by \nviolence and abuse to women and young children. it's a community development project to empower people with no opportunity in their lives so that they can live with greater dignity. We had a BLAST with the children and I look forward to visiting them again at some point. This morning, Shanti Dan didn't need any volunteers so I went to Daya Dan which is a home for mentally handicapped children. Time flew by as the children ate, pooped, got hosed down, got dressed again and napped. We also had a mass service all together since it is currently Sunday here. Mother Teresa once said that we can only do small things with great love. That is essentially what we are doing here. While there have been intense moments, it has not been near as overwhelming and scary as I once anticipated it to be. I love these people and have been cherishing this opportunity to be and see Jesus in the poor.

KOLKATA: The air quality here is reeeeeeeally bad; all kinds of litter gets tossed on the streeet; begging is unavoidable- the streets are a community of poverty; one is always sweating; food is sometimes risky; traffic is lawless; noise is everywhere; urinals exists on the side of the street [and are by far the worst smell I have encountered in this country]; stray dogs; stray cats; stray cows; stray monkeys; rickshaws; stray children? being 'rented' for begging scams (on the street where we are living: Sudder Street); squatties; *sigh... oh, beloved India. I can't help but ask where the government is for its people. The corruption is devastating and things don't look as though they will be changing in the near future. As different as this place sounds from Canada... I see major similarities. Each country has their own system... what seems to work for them. Not to minimize the \ninjustices in our world, but I understand how things work for different societies and how set in our ways we have all become. Canada is suffering too; in similiar ways and dissimilar ways. Our government is a blessing with its minimal corruption (I know... had I not known India in this way, my opinion may still be different). Much of the poverty here can be remedied with bread, but Spiritual poverty is a much more serious ailment. Is Canada lonely? To each their own... but I don't doubt for a second that many people are lacking real love and affection. This leads me in to what I have learned most...

WHAT I HAVE LEARNED: Why have I been afraid to serve? How did I allow myself to be so preoccupied with my life that I didn't take time to spread joy. I have learned the importance ofselflessness and the ultimate life goal of holiness resounds in my head. Until this point, i had never \nworked with mentally handicapped people before, or the poorest of the poor. I have encountered the most beautful people here!! Did I really have to travel halfway around the world to find the simplicity and beauty of our responsibility to serve the poor? However, I don't doubt that I am here for a reason. As Mother Teresa always told people: 'Come and See'. Honestly though, this chaotic country has left me confused. My mind seems to be overwhelmed and behind in the process of processing what I have encountered. I feel like a child with so much yet to learn and understand.

MY THOUGHTS: I love the simplicity of wearing the same clothes day after day and handwashing them each night. I love the timing of India-- the long hours we put in, and the slow pace even though it seems to be perpetual hustle and bustle. This country is SO full of contrasts that I could say one thing, but my next sentence would run contrary to what I just shared. There is beauty here, yet there is devastation; there is an effort for cleanliness amidst filth; there is organized chaos; and beauty in the broken. I have been healthy so far except for cold-like symptoms (which I hope that is all it is). We have been in the presence of many illnesses but pray that we all stay well. If you have questions about this experience, please ask! It's hard to organize my thoughts... so if I missed anything, do inquire.

Much love- Liz.

Belated blog!

2007-05-26T07:10:00.001-04:00

The Darjeeling Mist...

There's something about the Darjeeling mist that makes me want to cry. I can't explain it. The clouds seem to almost breathe here, inhaling and exhaling over the Darjeeling tea bushes, bringing a stillness in my heart that I haven't felt in a long time. I feel extremely blessed that I can see these distant mountains and feel the coolness of the day. A sweet respite from the Kolkata heat.

Although Darjeeling is my darling Indian fairy tale, I miss Kolkata. I miss the auto rickshaw honks, the 5 a.m. wake up knocks, the sounds of children calling "auntie, auntie" on the street, and my beautiful women at Shanti Dan. I feel honoured to go back to Kolkata in just a few short days. I'm ready to learn to serve more, breathe more, and love more... Never letting this new love go. I don't want to ever let it go.

Peace.

Anna Frenette

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The Himalayans

2007-05-26T01:12:00.001-04:00

I have been in the mountain town of Darjeeling for 5 days now. The team and I arrived here early on the 22nd. It was raining heavily as jeeps took us up the winding roads for 2 hours. Slowly the we climbed through the clouds until we reached our destination, this land of mists and mountains.

Two nights ago was the last evening the team spent together. We sang songs of worship huddled together in an opulent and cozy meeting room furnished with thick carpets and plush chairs. As the fire crackled in the stone hearth I asked God to be pleased with our words of love and adoration.

That night, as we prepared to sleep, a magnificent storm rolled in. Sitting on the back veranda of our hotel one could see the speckles of lights in the valley far below, the dusting of stars in the black sky above, and the clustering of storm clouds directly ahead in the distance. Within the storm clouds lightning danced unaccompanied by thunder. Bolts and flashes flared for more than an hour. A silent symphony of light.

I heard these words in my heart - "I am pleased."

-Rachel Hahn

O' Yeah,

2007-05-24T03:59:00.001-04:00

Love is perfect, only when shared!

_________________________________________________________________
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India is fab......

2007-05-24T03:53:00.001-04:00

We're in Darjeerling right now and it's insanely beautiful!!!
When the clouds clear (yeah, we're like in the clouds), you can actually see
mountains. It's so stunning.
I guess Blake told you the best story already, yeah trains are awesome
(Indiana Jones rulez!).
But I'm here just to tell evertone, you have to come here at some point in
time in your life, you just have to!
Heather

_________________________________________________________________
De nieuwe Hotmail: Mis het niet en profiteer direct van de voordelen!

http://get.live.com/mail/overview

All safe and sound.

2007-05-22T01:03:00.001-04:00

I just read the newspaper and recieved some email concerns about bombs that were found in Kolkata main train station - Howrah. Weird. India in my opinion is a bizzarely safe place... With over 1 billion people things should be more hetic and crazy...

So just to let you know we are all safe and sound and were blissfuly unaware of the sitaution - because we boarded a different train station and train and found ourself in Darjeeling today!

I am sure we all will write more soon!

peace+
jam

ANOTHER GREAT VIDEO FROM KARL!

2007-05-22T00:58:00.000-04:00

This man seriously ROCKS the videos.

peace+
jam

first class service

2007-05-20T12:41:00.001-04:00

so today was our last fll day serving in calcutta on the group trip and as a group we went to a five start hotel for the cold breakfast buffet (a whooping 10 dollars canadian). it was kind of a nice way to end the trip, but also a bit of the huge shocking transition between the two worlds that we are caught between. on the one hand here we are living on very little and trying to keep costs down, but at the same time we are very privelaged. i have been to this hotel before (on the first freedomizeindia trip), and it is still kind of crazy. you walk the somewhat calm streets, past sleeping families, mosquito nets on the sidewalk, spoon friends on a few pieces of cardboard and then come up to a wrap around drive way behind large concrete wall. the places just feels like wealth, status, and segregation because not just anyone can walk up to these doors and have both sets of doors opened for them, with a warm namaste. and some of us were fairly vagrent looking by north american standards. inside these concrete walls there was peace, there was straquility, a beautiful pool and the first nice piece of grass i have seen in the courtyard. then an hour later we walked back out in to the streets and took off to the volunteer. so a drastic a switch to being waited on to doing the waiting. but hands down the later was more rewarding even if it was hotter, smellier, sweatier but there is some indescribeable quality to just fully serving another persons NEEDS that you cannot ever buy.

being at the hotel in the morning gave me a strange feeling, i was oddly comforted by it to a certain extent, but at the same time it felt really weird. it was very comforting to trust the food, to have cold milk, and frosted flakes, but something in the back of my mind kept asking why i was paying over ten dollars for full stomach that yesterday cost me 15 cents. and we talked about it later tonight at dinner, the difference between guilt, and conviction but im not sure i will be able to tell the difference, but im hoping i will be able to sort it out a bit more in darjeeling. even though it is my second time to india, i hope to take more out of it, and hopefully take more positive lessons and understanding from it. so i think i will have consider what feelings i should dwell on and which i should just deal with and move past. it isn't easy, but from the team work i have seen here and the support we have had at home, i look forward to working through, but for now i need to keep it all together as i have over a month left here.

it is bittersweet having some of the team leave, but im looking forward to stepping out on my own and seeing what happens. right now the plan is a week in darjeeling and then 3 weeks more to volunteer, but it could change, im up for anything really... other than being kidnapped.

rob fraser

andrew is home

2007-05-20T06:46:00.001-04:00

Hey lovely people,

I stopped writing these emails in my last week in India; I think it was because there were way too many feelings and experiences to share and I didn't know how to begin. But I do have a lot of things waiting to get out of me, and several of you asked to hear more, so here's a messy pile of thoughts...

---

First I should say I got home safe last night. Esther met me at the airport and enjoys my dirty moustache a surprising amount. I flew from Kolkata to London and from London to Toronto, and somewhere in there 2 of my bags are still hanging out, so, meh. On the second flight I sat next to a really friendly old man who was also coming from Kolkata to Toronto. He was born in India but has lived in Toronto for 32 years. He runs leadership seminars around the world. His daughter is a social worker. I helped him figure out how to work the in-flight movies (quote of the day - "How long will the pause last?"). We talked about how poverty and suffering can be found everywhere in the world, but you see it more easily in Kolkata than in Toronto. Then he bought $175 of duty-free cologne from a passing flight attendant. So I think that was my first big shock as I returned home - "Wow, we really have no problem ignoring poverty and suffering."

---

Okay one thing I forgot to mention earlier - the bathroom in our hotel at the Tibetan refugee colony. Like most bathrooms I saw in India, the whole room acted as the shower stall. But in this bathroom there were six tap knobs on one wall and I seriously could not figure them out. One would get the shower going, but then turn another on and the shower would stop while the lower tap would start (the one I used to fill a bucket to do laundry), then try a different combination and you could get both going at once, and then one knob would run water from another tap on the opposite side of the room (the one I used to fill a different bucket with which to flush the toilet). And some knobs did nothing, but maybe I didn't use them in the right combination. Anyway, I felt more like I was in a science experiment than a shower.

---

The light switches in India go the other direction. Down is on, up is off. The first time I encountered this I thought the switch had been wired wrong. Clearly turning a switch up is supposed to make things be ON. It makes SENSE that way. It took an embarrassing number of switches for me to realize that it's just what I'm used to - that I've lived flicking switches UP millions of times to turn things on, and decided that's the way things should be. It was actually extremely awkward to make that realization because for some time I really did believe that it made sense for UP to be ON, and it did NOT make sense for UP to be OFF. And as ridiculous as this may sound, that realization then made me think - I've lived in a world where millions of people starve, and by my the way I live my life you'd think that I'd decided that's the way things should be. We really have no problem ignoring poverty and suffering. And that is why I spent a big paragraph on light switches.

---

If I could do India all over again - more love, more prayer. And I can do India all over again, so I will. More love, more prayer. I spent a lot of my volunteer time, possibly an entire shift once or twice, very unaware of God. Forgetting why I was there, doing it like a job, instinctively opting for dishwashing instead of mouth-feeding because I wouldn't need to put as much love into it. That's what I began to see as my time in India came to a close.

During one of our last preparation sessions before leaving Toronto, Jam asked us to write down our fears about the trip, and one thing I wrote was "I am afraid of discovering how poorly I love." But I think the thing I discovered, and I hope it translates okay from my insides to the page, is that you can't love poorly. Love is good. Love moves you and helps you and can't be measured - a little love or a lot of love, can we really explain what those things mean? There is definitely more love in some places than in others - but a little love or a lot of love, all of it is good. Poor loving is not loving.

The difference it made when I HAD love and I HAD prayer. The memory I will most hold onto from this trip is of one of the men in Kalighat. He had a bed that was a bit off to the side, not part of the big rows of patients, just because of how the room was shaped. One day he was muttering and writhing around. Other volunteers hadn't seemed to notice this by the time I came across him; also many were busy dealing with the poor man who had to keep losing toes. So I went and sat beside him on his bed as he lay there, and found he was pretty delerious; he would blink extremely fast and turn his head from side to side and quitely moan and it seemed like he was in the middle of some horrible living dream. I can't convey what it was like to see him - he held my hands tightly when I gave them to him but at some times I was sure he didn't even know I was there; his mind was somewhere else, making him suffer. I'd say things to him and he'd give no indication he'd heard me. He started crying and had trouble breathing.

It was obviously not because I'm an excellent practitioner of love or prayer that I started loving and praying for this man, I think it was more like I had run out of options. None of the usual things I'd do with patients applied here - change them, wash them, feed them, massage them, talk to them, hug them, bring them medicine, cut their nails. So I figured I would pray, and I didn't really know what I could pray here, but in some sort of tangled and claustrophobic way I came to find words. I breathed slowly and deliberately and asked God to help this man breathe the way I could; I breathed prayers and I prayed breaths. I asked God to give me any of this man's suffering.

It didn't happen instantly, but it was fast. It was like maybe God was a few beds down and had to walk over to touch us. And then my man's breathing became slower and deeper, and then I was weeping away with him like we were brothers who'd just lost our mom. So we were just like that for a while, crying together, holding hands. And eventually I was the only one crying, and he had stopped moving, except for his chest coming up and down, still a little bit faster than mine was. And then I got him some water, and helped him to drink it, and he fell asleep, and I don't remember what else I did that day.

---

INDIA! India.

---

I hope you're all well,
Peace + love,
Let's hang out!
-Andrew

A business card

2007-05-20T06:15:00.001-04:00

Someone once offered to make Mother Teresa business cards. She had this printed on them:

The fruit of silence is prayer
The fruit of prayer is faith
The fruit of faith is love
The fruit of love is service
The fruit of service is peace

I'm trying to understand these words. I've gotten as far as the fruit of silence. In this city of blaring horns, angry dogs, calls to prayer, crying children, the chant of beggars, the beckon of merchants, the songs of mass, the chugging of generators, and the caw of ravens, silence is a luxury.

Today we had breakfast at an upscale hotel where a cold buffet costs more than many Indians make in a month. To get there you stroll down a busy main street on a broken cobbled sidewalk. To your left and right are slumbering locals. The fortunate lie atop wooden slates, the less fortunate have only the uneven cobble stones for a mattress and their forearms' for a pillow. Step over them and turn right as soon as you see an arch way. Within the next few step the oppressive heat and noise of Kolkata disappears and you are in a world of crystal chandeliers, marble floors and trained servants. Escapism at it's finest.

It seems that only the wealthy can afford to pray in India.

Today I volunteered at Prem Dan, a home for long term patients whose journey will more that likely end in death. There is a chalkboard on the wall that keeps a monthly tally of the number of patients who were admitted, who were discharged, and who died.

April
Admit - 0
Dischar - 2
Dead - 4

I fed an old frail woman who was tied to the bed with medical gauze. She kept pulling off her dressings. She doesn't have the strength to sit up, so I propped her tiny body with myself from behind while I reached around to her mouth. I asked another volunteer, a paramedic by trade, what was wrong with this woman. She's just old, and weak and loosing her mind. She will die soon from pressure sores. She's dying from bed sores.

I tried to pray for her, but the sound of her choking on her food and the clanging of other patients' metal plates drowned out my plea to God.

India

2007-05-17T02:24:00.001-04:00

---------- Forwarded message ----------
From: Alexandra Lamontagne <alexandra.lamontagne@gmail.com >
Date: May 17, 2007 11:48 AM
Subject: India oh India
To: France Lamontagne <alchemist@mycoast.net>

Namaste~

Many people I have spoken to lately have likened India to a one sided relationship where one partner (we the volunteers) gives so much and the other (India) only takes.

This country is certainly exhausting and HOT but it is giving me just enough to keep me in the relationship.

I spent the morning working at Shanti Dan, a home for handicapped and abused women, with the always entertaining Rachel Hahn.

I have been working at Shishu Bhavan, an orphanage, for the past 4 days. Rose and Heather as well as about unconditionally as He, Mother Theresa and Jesus did. No matte5 other volunteers work with me in the area for handicapped children ranging from the ages of 2 to 14. These kids, their smiles, laughs, hugs and progress is what keeps me going. As the sister said yesterday they are God's chosen ones pouring out his love unconditionally. No matter how much I love and nurture these children they will have done more for me.

My daily routine begins much like the others on the trip. An early 15 minute walk to Motherhouse where due to a lack of chaos this early in the morning I have a chance to reflect on India.

Mass at Motherhouse with the sisters and volunteers is enjoyable for the most part but sweat trickles down my face caused by the persistent heat and I usually get dizzy as we stand up and sit back down.

I'm lucky to work at the center nearest to Motherhouse and so I only have a 10 minute walk to Shishu Bhavan. We begin work at 8 pm spending at least a half hour giving the children something to drink. The seemingly simple task of feeding the kids turns into the ultimate test of my patience as many of the children have a very difficult time swallowing food. I certainly didn't expect feeding children to be one of the most difficult things I've had to do here. After feeding them we do basic physical therapy with the children by massaging and exercising their limbs. They are usually quite happy to participate in this exercise but there have been some heartbreaking moments where a child is in much pain from complications from his disability. One particular fourteen year old girl girl named Sundari (beautiful woman in Hindi) is bed ridden due to the severity of her disability. She has the brightest smile in the world but trying to do her exercises with her is so difficult because I often watch her smile get replaced by tears as I stretch her legs and hands. Its really difficult to see her go through this much pain everyday and even more difficult to know that the view she gets of outside when I carry her to the window each morning is most likely the only view she will get of the outside world for most of her life. Sundari an the other children here are definetly teaching me patience.They are also showing me unconditional love and trust as they hold on to me for dear life whether they are happy or in pain.

India takes so much out of me everyday but I'm always replenished and brought to peace by the love and trust which I share with the children at Shishu Bhavan and with the amazing people on the Freedomize India team.

May your lives be filled with God's own peace!

xxx

Alex. L

What it means to serve

2007-05-16T04:26:00.001-04:00

There has been a young woman at Shanti Dan the last few days. She wraps her hair up in a beige and blue scarf threaded with silver because she's afraid of catching lice from the others. She was given the task of taking all the old, thread bare and ripped linens and sewing them any way she could to make the material still useful for washing floors and windows. She uses the only sewing machine in the ward: an ancient manual foot pedal machine that badly needs to be oiled. The other women sometimes gather around her and hand her night gowns that need to be hemmed. While hemming, she wears intense concentration in her furrowed brow because there are no pins to guide her. She can't always sew a straight line. Her feet, pumping away, are wrapped in tape to prevent her blisters from being infected by the dirty streets of Kolkata. This young woman is me.

It has been very humbling. I'm learning what it means to serve.

Rachel H

FreedomizeIndia 3 Video - Teaser

2007-05-16T00:18:00.000-04:00

Created by Karl.

Enjoy

peace+
jam

My days usually begin like this...

2007-05-15T03:00:00.000-04:00

I wake just before 5 am. I set my watch alarm for 5 but my body doesn't trust alarms that early in the morning, so I tend to wake myself with 15 or 20 minutes to spare before the digital chimes. I go across the hall in my hostel and knock on the door. A boy, usually Rob, answers, usually in his boxers, and I tell him it's time to get up.

At 5:30 I head out. Other travelers and I walk down a non descript street lined with vendors, rickshaws, and water pumps that, at this time in the morning, are crowded around by nearly naked lathered men washing their bodies for the day.

At 6 we arrive at Mother House. Here the Sisters of Charity have daily mass. Any volunteer is welcome, but a sign strictly prohibits non-Catholics from partaking in communion.

At 7 the volunteers gather in a back room. Here we each get a small banana, a thick slice of white bread, and a cup of hot chai. The chai in India is not spicy and fragrant like our North American version. It tastes like the tea I used to have as a child at my English Grandmother's home. I didn't like tea then, but it was essential to drink it when visiting, so I loaded it with milk and sugar until it was unrecognizable a tea. I don't drink much of it at the volunteers' breakfast. I prefer to dip my bread into it.

After cleaning up, reciting a prayer and singing a song, we disperse, to walk, catch buses and hop in auto-rickshaws. There are many houses founded by the Sisters in Kolkata. I catch the 202. It costs 5 rupees, 14 Canadian cents, and takes 20 minutes. The bus ride is followed by a 15 minute walk. By this time in the morning the sun has become harsh and threatening in the sky.

Finally, I reach Shanti Dan.

This is the home for mentally disabled and abused women. Unlike other homes, I don't have many menial chores to perform. Many of the women here are very self sufficient and do their own washing, bathing, and eating. They suffer most not from their mental and physical afflictions but from boredom.

Everyone has lice. It seems inevitable that I will soon too despite my effort of keeping my hair tied up and covered with a scarf. I've seen cases so bad that it looked as if the woman was wearing a soft white crown around her head.

Sometimes we dance, often I sing though I can't carry a tune. There's a skeleton of a woman who has bulging eyes and implores me to sit next to her as she sobs in Hindi, or Bengali, I'm not sure which. She knows I can't understand.

The women like to be massaged, and a few require physical therapy exercises. I often kiss them on the face.

Everyday, when I arrive, and before I leave, they bow to my feet and place there heads on my toes. I remember the first day, as soon as I walked in the door, and they were crowding around just to touch my feet with there faces. I couldn't believe what I was experiencing, and I was immobile with shock. I came to be like Jesus to these women, and they are like Jesus to me. They are like the weeping woman who washed His feet with her tears and her hair.

Rachel Hahn

New Light at Night

2007-05-15T02:18:00.000-04:00

Last night we had the opportunity to visit New Light, a local secular outreach to the children of Kolkata prosititues. 10 of us walked through a seedy district of the city, turning through alleyways and a maze of impromptu "houses". Built atop the alleyways and slum housing of many of the working women is a humble care centre. It was significant that it was right in the midst of the place they wished to minister to.

New Light offers medical care to the children and their mothers, legal care, teaching, and most importantly, an oportunity for the kids to just be kids in the midst of their situation. They don't condone or condemn the mothers trade, which makes it a welcome place to keep children safe within their community.

We arrived to an open room full of 20-30 children under the age of 5, only a 4th or so of the children they offer a safe place to while their mothers are out working. You might imagine dirty, ratty-type kids with rats crawling out of their clothing. You'd be wrong. These kids seemed spotless to me, wearing clean clothes and seemingly peaceful. I really got the impression that they were loved here.

We spoke with a few of the caretakers to understand what they do and then had a chance to play with the kids for a few minutes. They were seriously awesome. As a few women I came with instantly connected to the little girls with the universal power of patty-cake clapping games(?), I sat on the floor with a circle of boys, pronoucing names of animal pictures as a kid pointed to them from his picture book (New Light provides learning opportunities and sponsers kids to go to day school). Then a little girl came over and plumped herself on my lap as a few other boys showed me their Spiderman drawings. The overwhelming feeling I felt at this moment was safety. In only a few moments the kids were spellbound by us, and I kept thinking how lucky I was to be a distraction to them.

In the midst of this, their moms are out doing their thing, making money. The kids are here instead of being alone at home, or in the same room while the mom applies her trade with visitors. The fact that these kids are here at night, safe and being cared for and nurtured, blows my mind away.

There is talk of our team making up a daycamp for these kids this upcoming Saturday. The idea of entertaining them and keeping them company feels like such a privilege.

~Blake

My days usually begin like this...

2007-05-14T06:21:00.001-04:00

At 6 we arrive at Mother House. Here the Sisters of Charity have daily mass. Any volunteer is welcome, but a sign strictly prohibits non-Catholics from partaking in communion.

Finally, I reach Shanti Dan.

The women like to be massaged, and a few require physical therapy exercises. I often kiss them on the face.

A quicky post of the story so far

2007-05-13T00:01:00.000-04:00

I just read all of Andrew's posts below and wow- it's a great painted picture of the story here. You're a great storyteller, Andrew. (Geeky high-five!)

India is an eye-opener, full of challenges and hidden blessings. Full of moments, from Indiana Jones-style jumping onto a moving train with Alanna, Heather in the lead, to a beyond-peaceful early-morning ride along the Ganges, to rooftop chillin' with the team in Kolkata.

We're all here in Kolkata right now, doing the work in the different houses. It is a process many of us feel thrown in to, but ultimately it forces us to not think, just do. It keeps things simple, even when it is a challenge.

Mother T's main house, where we go for mass in the morning and a quick breakfast before volunteering, is a treat. To hear the sisters singing at the mass is SO comforting. The building itself is humble and simple, but occupies such a sweet spiritual place. It has the feeling of not being new or old, it just "is". "Is" with history and heritage.

There is a prayer that the volunteers say together before leaving for the morning work. I am posting it here for everyone to take in. It's so simple and a sweet way to face the day. I hope to keep in in my prayer life.

Dear Lord,
the great healer, I kneel before you, since every good and perfect gift must come from you. I pray give skill to my hands, clear vision to my mind, kindness and meekness to my heart. Give me singleness of purpose, strength to lift up a part of the burden of my suffering fellow men and a true realization of the privilege that is mine. Take from my heart all guile and worldliness that with the simple faith of a child, I may rely on you. Amen.

~Blake

andrew's 4th email from india to family + friends

2007-05-08T14:24:00.001-04:00

We're relaxing today before the rest of Freedomize India arrives in Delhi, when we'll need to shepherd them to our hotel and help them through the culture shock. It's very weird to have a day that does not involve either Kalighat or a train ride.

I forgot to mention the rain we had on my second day. It was a bright and sunny afternoon, as it always is, when out of nowhere the heaviest downpour started (including hail) and had lots of streets flooded within 15 minutes. Jam and I thankfully were in a restaurant and waited it out, but when we got going an hour later we found our hotel's street a few inches deep in water. So we turned around and went for tea. Of course the sun had everything dry again by the evening. Jam informed me that, sadly, when the rain is really heavy, they actually pull the manholes out to help with the drainage, and occasionally someone walking through the water will fall into the sewer and never be seen again.

We remind ourselves that we're here to serve others and yet spend lots of our time walking down the streets turning beggars away. In part, many are not in true need and give themselves away in this by only asking for money from foreigners. Men, women and children who do have the means to go to work or school instead find an 'easier' life in organized/pimped begging. This we've been warned about often. But also, whether you give to someone in genuine need or not, someone else is bound to have seen that candy or that rupee change hands, and soon enough I am walking through the market with an entourage of kids giving me doll eyes and trying to hold my hand… and however great the intention, no tourist is going to save India rupee by rupee through the begging system.

During orientation at Mother Teresa's we were presented several scam scenarios, and I've come across all of them - a woman borrows a prostitute's baby for the day, asks you to buy milk for him, and later sells it back; a crying man tells you he's been robbed, offers to sell you what he's got left (in our case, an old walkman) and asks you to buy him a train ticket - Jam actually gave our man a time to meet him at the ticket office the next day, with the promise of buying him his way to the next town, and as we expected he didn't show up. There are many others but I'll just give you one more picture which really hit us: Karl and I are having tea in a bookstore, and we see a little girl, ignoring the local shoppers walking past her, staring from street level up to the second storey where we are, doing her panhandler pantomime a floor below us and through a window.

So we see through some scams but it's harder to ignore many who are in true and terrible material poverty, knowing we are quite powerless to help them. Some, who could be considered "better off" because they have a roof over their heads, live in a room on the side of the street, smaller and dirtier than anything Jam is probably even allowed to let us stay in. Instead of a front door they have that roll-up metal sheet which I've seen in Canada only on the backs of trucks and the occasional storage garage. A family of six will sleep here during the night and work here during the day - making shoes or cooking food to sell, repairing other people's car parts… Sometimes they'll be working on something and I can't even figure out what it is; I just see one blackened and primitive tool chipping away at one ash-coated lump of rock. And they will do this all day, because they don't have money and they barely have food but they do have time and they use it to work. I am still years from understanding what this really means - waking up from the "fact" that an hour of my time is worth a minimum of $7.

In Kolkata there is a place called "INTERNET" run by a wonderful guy named Raj. There I would sit surrounded by walls of colourful clothes for sale and great Indian pop music, emailing you and browsing for 15 rupees an hour - $1.23 at the current exchange rate. On my way to India, during my stopover at Heathrow airport, I got my internet fix at 1 pound each 10 minutes. And I guess I'm writing this because it's one of a million examples of what seems to be an impassable economic gap, which we all know about but rarely hold up to look at in any kind of light. Who has enough light to illuminate this abyss between the rich and the poor??

My pre-trip pals are way keener on afternoon naps than I am, so I went for a walk in the massive sun on my own today. Not too far from our hotel I found an exit from the refugee colony into a park of sorts, which I followed to a wide sandy path. There was a river alongside it where several families lived in huts made mostly of tarps and garbage. Walking the path I eventually saw a herd of cows grazing across the river. It looked like a beautiful enough scene, but I was reminded that from so far away I probably wasn't able to see nearly as much of the litter as was really there. If it was anything like my side of the river, every kind of plastic and paper packaging seemed to rear its head at some point, mixed with the odd fruit shell and animal excrement. And then the dreaded irony, a "KEEP YAMUNA RIVER CLEAN" sign next to a heaping altar of garbage (nearly the size of the hotel rooms we've been staying in), walled in on three sides by bricks and partially on fire.

In the distance, a white-haired, decrepit human shape with a sack on her back was picking through the trash. I sat down with her but we discovered our language barrier quickly enough and could only exchange a few smiles. She started smoking something rolled in a leaf as I was called away by a family nearby - the five kids wanted to know if I would pay them to take their picture. I tried to explain I didn't have a camera but their English was only slightly better than my Hindi (I can say "hello"). They pointed at the lumps in my pockets (amazingly the oldest kid knew the word "mobile"), so I emptied them out - sunglasses, scraps of paper and a package of cookies which they happily declined, before escorting me through their clothesline to the main road.

On my way back to the hotel I saw a store selling these great argyle socks. The wannabe hipster in me said, "Those are so good, you need to have them in your life!" The traveler in me said "Look, you don't want to carry anything more for the 3 trains back to Kolkata." And then whatever little bit of God that's been nurtured in me quietly chimed in… "Have you already forgotten everything you've seen even in the last twenty minutes?"

I've been slacking on my journaling recently but you guys get a faceful instead.

Please write me about anything, I know I must be saying a lot of heavy stuff (and also probably boring you) but we are still big dorks over here, high fiving about anything and laughing at every meal. Internet access isn't a natural extension of my body since leaving Toronto, but it's actually a lot easier to come by than I expected. This is my long way of saying, "I miss you, let's chat."

Peace love grace mercy goodness as much as we can muster,
-Andrew

andrew's 3rd email from india to family + friends

2007-05-08T14:23:00.001-04:00

(May 4, 2007)

We took a 12 hour overnight train from Kolkata to Varanasi - walked around a lot, saw the Ganges river and a wicked full moon, dogs as usual, some monkeys. Cows are everywhere though, hanging out in the alleys or on the steps down to the water or bathing in the river etc. I played a couple more sitars.

This morning got off a 15 hour overnight train from Varanasi to Delhi. Here we are staying in a colony for Tibetan refugees. Not sure what the rest of the city is like but here it looks pretty normal with shops and markets and hotels (nicest one we've stayed in yet) - you just see a higher-than-average amount of monks. Good vibes here, a lot less begging and for the most part it's cleaner (it helps that cows aren't around to do big poos everywhere).

We'll be meeting the rest of the team at the airport tomorrow, and then doing the whole "check out India" part of the trip, through Agra and Varanasi, as we make our way back to Kolkata to work at Mother Teresa's some more.

Since us "pre-trip" people have for the most part dealt with our culture shock and experienced a lot of craziness, Jam has actually decided to put each of us in charge of 3-4 people on the team for transporting them from our train stations to our hotels. This means cramming 4-5 people plus luggage in an auto-rickshaw (the same size as a golf cart - on a good day) and going through the live action version of that Grand Theft Auto videogame traffic - both life-threatening and fun. We've each done it twice now so clearly we're experts.

Other stories include sharing a sleeper train bed with a cop, monkey vs. dog, revolutionary techniques for dealing with adamant hagglers and scam artists, and the philanthropic german bakery, but you can ask me about that some other time... this keyboard is quite stiff and definitely used to be a much lighter shade of dirt.

High fives,
-Andrew

andrew's 2nd email from india to family + friends

2007-05-08T14:21:00.001-04:00

(April 30, 2007)

Hey friends,

Just wanted to drop a line and say it's crazy over here. Sorry everyone who I didn't get to catch up with the week before I left, that was crazy too.

It's hard to describe everything I've been up to. I'll start at the airport… The first thing that overwhelmed me about India was that everything is covered in trees, which for whatever reason was not what I'd been imagining. It's pretty freaking green.

I have seen only one road with lines painted on it, the rest of the time the cars pretty much do whatever they want and there is no such thing as blindspot-checking, or signaling (lights don't exist for that on most cars…) and sideview mirrors are pretty rare too. So basically horn-honking is the only way to get anything done. The first day I was like "Man I have completely taken the lines on the roads in Canada for granted forever!" and now I'm all "Hey we don't need them…"

Some billboard highlights:
"PANTALOONS: Fresh Fashion"
A message from the Kolkata Police: "If you drive like hell you will reach there soon"
"FRIENDS MIXING LAB" - a bar
and there was a clothes store called "Moustache Horizon"

Our hotel room is maybe 8 feet by 12 feet with two lumpy-mattressed beds and super dirty. We share bathrooms with everyone else on the first floor. The owner is so sketchily awesome, totally run-of-the-mill here and I trust him enough to sleep twenty feet away from him, but if I saw this dude in Toronto it would be such a different story, ha ha ha. Between the two of us in the room we are paying about $3 a night. So it pretty much rocks!

In the mornings I've been volunteering at a place called Kalighat, and it throws all kinds of my emotions around and I'm still trying to process it all and can't describe what it feels like, but I will just tell you what the place is like. The buiding is 3 stories high and beside a temple. On the first floor I've been working in the male ward, so it's 50+ guys with HIV/AIDS or TB or other fatal stuff lying in numbered cots. A lot of them can barely move. We bring them medicine and water and food and feed it to them, sit and talk with them, massage them, help them piss/ shit and clean them up, handwash their linen/laundry/dishes/bedpans (laundry is pretty fun actually, ask me about it some time). Yeah… it's heavy but it's joyous. Today I was sitting with this guy Vishnu and he randomly decided to show off his mastery of the English language and counted from 1 to 100, squeezing my arm at each number, and then did all the months of the year, and then the alphabet, and then he held my hand and brought it up to my head and said "you are good man" and then brought it to his head and said "I am good man"…and it was good times… Yesterday or the day before one of the men was badly infected and one of the nurses told him "We have to amputate your toe, we will cut it off tomorrow"…and then right then and there she chops it off… So it's crazy over here, all the time.

Today the subway was closed for construction for a couple hours after my volunteer shift, so I decided to walk around a bunch, got myself a $2 pair of sandals, and found this hair cutting place where they were blasting the radio so I just stood outside and enjoyed the awesome Indian pop sounds for a while.

Went into a music store yesterday and played a sitar for the first time, and now I pretty much have to bring one home. They sound amazing all the time but when you have one in your hands and can feel how responsive it is you fall in looove! Plus they are 3 to 4 times cheaper here than in Canada.

Anyway, that's the adventure so far… Oh yeah the food is awesome too.

Tell me what Toronto's up to!
Peace,
-Andrew

andrew's 1st email from india to family + friends

2007-05-08T14:20:00.001-04:00

(April 28, 2007)

so it's my second day here, and i have discovered internet access (well jam showed me) right around the corner from our hotel for pretty cheap.

our hotel is called 'modern lodge'. we were staying in a room with 3 beds and its own bathroom yesterday, but jam felt we were paying too much (350 rupies / night, about 10 dollars) so we moved to another room today, which is tiny and we have to share bathrooms but we are paying much less, only 100 rupies. once the rest of the team gets here jam has arranged it so that we will pretty much take over an entire other hotel which is only 6 months old so things will get nicer.

i have been volunteering in the mornings at kalighat, home for the dying. the volunteers wash clothes by sort of dancing in this little washing pool with soap and then moving the clothes to other basins for rinsing. we wring them all out and then hang them to dry on the roof in the crazy india sun for a while. after snack break (bread, water, chai and a little bit of something else depending on the day) we fold it all - it takes 10 people about 15 minutes to fold all the laundry. i like the dance-washing best but there are lots of other things to do like wash dishes, feed people, distribute medicines, clean people, change their clothes and so on.

yesterday slept from 6pm to 5am, and all the jetlag is gone! only had a couple hours' sleep on each flight. this morning from 6-7 we went to mass with the nuns. i couldn't imagine doing that every morning because it is basically a lot of recited words with communion, but i'm sure it is a different experience for the nuns and jam suggested 'god blesses the routine'. the nuns also meditate 45 minutes prior.

lots more i could tell you but jam and i need to get lunch - i'll write again soon.

love,
andrew

Photos from Preface

2007-03-17T13:09:00.000-04:00

Hey gang. Blake here. On March 3rd the 2007 Freedomize India team held PREFACE, an evening of interactive storytelling using art, music, photos, people and rooms. It was an intimate night of about 125 friends, with all $ going towards the trip. Thanks to the many helpers and artists that came together. These are just a few pics from the night.

The hush before the crowd arrives.

The tools of the Tea Room.

Lisa and Jam get their speech on.

The crowd listens in, wine in hand.

A movie snipet giving our guests an idea of what we'll be up to.

Martine's art on display.

A Room within a room- walk to the right for the silkscreening room.

Dylan and Alanna working the silkscreening table.

A quote.

Fresh finished silkscreened items hanging to dry.

Jam before his storytelling time.

Jen shares a story in her room.

Stunning black + white photography.

Blake's "Words From Blogs" installation piece.

A storytelling listening station.

Heather's many purses.

Andrew plays for his room.

Heather takes a photo in the tea room.

Tim's interviews with team members, past and present.

Folks listening in.

More chillin'.

The crowd in the main meeting room (can't see the DJs spinning or the wine bar from this angle).

Darjiling Bound

2005-07-18T06:14:00.000-04:00

Hey Everyone!

The past few days have been intense, with our volunteering and a number of other exciting things that have come up. We've been spending our Sunday mornings with a local Bengali church, and been incredibly blessed by the ministry there. The pastor is an incredible man who we've grown to love and respect so much over the past weeks. His family has been going through a lot of difficult times of late, and we would covet your prayers for them.

In a few short hours we board a train for our trip-end debrief in Darjiling. I spent several weeks there earlier this year, and am really looking forward to returning. This mountain station is gorgeous, and so chilled out it's whack. That's it. Whack. I have a buncha errands to run before we leave, but I'm looking forward to hearing from you all soon. I know everyone here in India is so thankful for your correspondence and prayers.

every blessing.
andrew

vitality

2005-07-11T06:37:00.000-04:00

Ok.. Bear with me… this might not make sense… but I was asked to blog for the group site today.. and because I try to be an honest man I must blog where I am at and not where I want to be… I am a mostly self-absorbed person I think and thus attempting to comment on the experience of others would be trying to say too much.

You cannot escape yourself. That is the first thing I have learned here. You carry your baggage wherever you go. You carry your hopes, your fears, your inadequacies, and all your contradictions on your back like a Mack truck no matter how far you go from the place you live. The normal sort of Introspection of which is necessary for life is almost impossible in the midst of clamoring horns and blinding lights in the streets of Kolkata. As such I believe all things internal become intensified out of the rage of wanting to be heard. Paradoxically, this city seems normally to leave one in such a state of exhaustion that this rage is never addressed and as such it seems to me that the pressure on the soul forces all things of significance to the surface to beg to be addressed even though it knows that is impossible at the moment.

Thus it becomes vitally important that in the brief moments of silence, that that which has been made apparent is tackled with urgency is faced head on…before the tide returns and the tension once again grows in the soul until the next free moment.

I must tackle my demons. Unfortunately this tension has made it apparent that I have many.

May the Lord’s will be done.

josh

Last Rites

2005-07-09T07:14:00.000-04:00

Dishes clanging, water splashing, people yelling up and down the hallway. As the floor is finally mopped clean, the dishes put away and the water let out the drain, the chaos is suddenly intruded upon by a mournful silence.

Silence is never to be found in this city, and yet today silence has found us here. Patients gather 'round the bed, prayers are lifted like incense to heaven as tears roll drearily down our cheeks. A brother. A father. A son.

Now Spirit.

From the centre of the semi-circular crowd, a future priest leads in a prayer of thanksgiving, of loss, for this our dearly departed. Lying in our midst, body covered in hand-woven linen, flies buzzing about and spirit fleeting, we remember who he was to us. Perhaps the few things we were able to do for him while he breathed his last breaths in this place.

My throat chokes up. A tear traces my cheek like so many others. I did not know this man, and yet at the time of his last rites, I recognise in him, myself. I too am frail. I too will die. Whether indistinctly in a hospice bed or not, my life too will expire. When that happens...

When that happens, I wonder what people will say. I wonder what they will do. Will they too gather around my bed and say "I didn't know him well..." or "He was a good man..." or "His last days were so hard - he's in a better place..." Who knows. We'll leave that for the appropriate juncture in history.

His eyes are made to be closed. The linen bedclothes raised over his head, flowers placed lovingly, one by one upon his chest as we pay our last respects to one of us. A human being. Our kindred. And as the last of us walk by, prepare to leave this silence for the chaos outside, we commit his spirit unto Your care...

In the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit.

Amen.

Canada vs. Calcutta

2005-07-08T16:03:00.000-04:00

Hello Everyone!!

This is another email about my fun times in Kolkata, but also a blog entry for Freedomize India (the group I'm here with).

Okay so I know that my emails in the past and the blogs that have been written may constantly be highlighting negative things. This is another, but let me be 100% clear, since being here a bit over a week, I've come to adopt these negative things and see them as simply aspects of daily life, so I don't mean to sound like I"m dogging Kolkata, I'm just simply telling you facts about my days! Anyhoooo, it's SOOO different from Canada...let me list the differences:

1. 4 star hotel in Canada: cleaning service every day, clean sheets, plush rugs, tidy bathroom, nice beds.....VS

4 star hotel in Kolkata: well, first off the beds are posture-pedic nightmares, and the nice "s" shape in my spine is not a bit more like an "i", but that's okay. Oh and last night Elissa and I chased down a cockroach and killed it with my sandal, their sooo fast! Oh, then there's the wildlife in the bathrooms. See the Indian idea of a bathroom is a 3 sided cube randomly around the streets of Kolkata, or better yet, any step. So the bathroom in the hotel I'm at, is actually relatively 4 star, it has a toilet..yeah, but the shower is almost directly over the toliet...a very open concept that could be the next modern trend in Canada, but I hope not. It does help clean the toilet while you shower though. Oh and there is this hole in the wall for all the water to drain from the bathroom into the streets, so each morning it's a surprise to see what wandered in through that 5in by 5in hole. I have a growing fondness for geckos. We get on average 3-4 small ones and this morning we were blessed with 2 large ones as well. I call them all Robbies. But they eat a lot o the ants, mosquitos and these weird flying things...so more the marrier!

Emmm, what else, oh yeah, so new sheets in Kolkata come only when you ask, and we have come to expect at least a 10 odd stains per sheet, and either a hand print or shoe print in dirt. All laundry in Kolkata is done by hand, so maybe foot marks mean that they really put a lot of effort and love into it? not sure yet.

Oh yeah, and the best part is night. See, the anti-malaria drugs elissa, and Jo and I are on, are giving us the craziest nightmares. It's always fun to see what happens at night. Last night, after Elissa killed the cockroach, and some unidentified bug on her pillow, she decided that she would try and sleep with this rather sketchy blanket that they gave us. We were afraid to shake it out in case of airborne disease and ignorane is bliss. ANyhoo, right after she had fallen to sleep and I was a bit out of it, but I felt the need to ask her some question...so I reached over and shook her leg. She SCREAMED and ran toward the lights, and then I screamed and ripped the covers over my face. She halucinated that a rat had ran over her leg and when I got the courage to pull the sheets back down from over my head, I saw her searching the room for this rodent. I told her it was me, she got angry at me, then we giggled. But the dreams become so real, these drugs are wacky!

2. Food in Canada: quality control is a blessing

Food in Kolkata: Before coming on the trip I was warned not to eat food from the vendors on the streets, but they forgot to mention that 90% of the places to eat are vendors on the streets, so its always a gamble. I've found a few places near by that I like, so thank the Lord, but I'll never worry about eating food off the floor at home again. The awesome thing is that you can get a full meal for 50 rupies which is 1 dollar canadian! Score.

3. the temperature in Canada: I've heard its really hot at home like 30-35..lucky ducks!

It's about 40 C each day, and the air is sooo thick with humidity that my cloths take days to dry. sweat is a friend.

4. The traffic in Canada: organized, you have traffic organized into lanes divided by clear painted markers. You have oncoming cars on one side totally separate from the traffic going in the opposite direction. Oh and there's blinkers to signal lane changes, and for the most part everyone has side mirrors

NOT IN KOLKATA!! oh no way hose-ay. Traffic is both directions, the game of street chicken takes on a whole new meaning here. No signals, only constant horn blowing, and no side mirrors....only because you need that space on the side of your vehicle for weaving through traffic. The roads are a bit bumpy as well, but really I mean none existant at times and filled with pieces of brick that have been generously donated. I love it! I'm amazed at the drivers ability to stay sane here, but it might be the crack that they all have to be on to do that job!! Oh and the funniest thing is looking at the different ideas of safety helmets that motorcyclists wear. I've seen everything from horse riding helmets, to oddly shaped pots with no straps! It's great.

Okay well that's about it for me. I hope you enjoyed a slight compare/contrast email. Stay tuned there will be more to come!

PS. it's normal for people to slaughter their own animals here. You buy it alive and kill it at home, how else can you ensure its fresh?? lol, just a thought

Kari

Namastee

2005-07-05T22:33:00.000-04:00

Here, "hello" sort of sounds like nasty. Go figure.
Fairly prosaic, I would say, for the relative state of
affairs in this country.

I know God has great plans for this place, but it is
hard not to feel a kind of deep sadness and remorse
for India. I would have never believed that a human
body could stand to be covered head to toe in all
kinds of body scabs and abscesses and sores and live
without shoes or a sheltered home or proper food and
clean water and still be alive, sometimes smiling and
happy and fulfilled. It is truly amazing to me what
kinds of tortures we can widthstand and how this is
tolerated by people who have the power to help. What
is even more amazing is that things can go on like
this with such tenacity.

My average day begins as such: I wake up at 4:40 am to
start our walk to morning mass at the Motherhouse with
the nuns. We make our way down street after street of
men, women and children just waking up from their
sleep on cardboard beds that line the sidewalks
outside of the closed shops. Some of them actually run
these shops but have no other place to sleep oustide
of business hours, since the shop itself is usually
packed to the brim with supplies or fire pits for
cooking food or boiling chai. Every inch of the
sidewalk is crammed with people performing various
trades. The chai huts are crowded in the mornings,
with people huddled around smoking bidis and munching
on snacks while sweet milky tea is sipped slowly from
delicate clay cups that are smashed in the gutters to
prevent reuse. It is an astounding thing to watch,
really: the graceful way the tea is enoyed and the
violent way this streetside ceremony ends. For me,
this is what India is about: the shockingly beautiful
juxtaposed with the shockingly ugly. The extremes of
life somehow managing to coexist, mindful of each
one's place but always in a state of tension with each
other.

The toothbrush vendor I pass every morning is a
withered skeleton of a man who sqauts holding a bunch
of sharpened twigs and some packaged tooth powders
that sell for about a penny. There are goats and cows
and chickens and wild dogs and kids off to school and
men off to work and already at 5:45 am as we near the
House the streets are gridlocked in the Calcutta jam,
which somehow despite the glut and chaos moves at a
surprising swift and perilous pace. This might explain
the constant honking from buses, auto-rickshaws and
taxis, who must compete not for customers but for road
space and pedestrian awareness. I'm now fairly sure
that most streets don't follow any one or two ways but
are simply a multi-directional path probably best
defined by something you would draw with an
etch-a-sketch.

After mass we walk to the children's orphanage to have
the volunteer's breakfast of chai, banana and bread.
After that we begin the march to Prem Dan hospital.
This walk is terrifying both because of the constant
threat of physical damage from the insane drivers, the
touchy-feely men, the rabid wild dogs, and the
wonderous monsoon conditions. Often the streets are a
dark soupy smelly muddy mess of all things you could
possibly ever worry about contracting. What was
especially nice about one particular journey this week
is that my sandals gave me blisters and I caught my
baby toe on some rusty train tracks we had to cross
over, so that "open wound-meets chlolera" was
definitely the theme of the journey. Yesterday's theme
was "protect your breasts". I will not elaborate.

The hospital itself makes me cry because it is so poor
and disgusting. It's biggest success is probably the
spread of TB. Today I helped a volunteer nurse from
Belgium replace a woman's catheter that had been in
there for three months and was infected. She also had
the biggest bed sore I have ever seen that was rotting
and undressed under her clothing.

And yet, the place has a beautiful spirit. It runs on
pure love and God's grace, and there is really no
better medicine than this. Sometimes I feel I can't do
much for the women there, since they are mostly old
and very sick and don't speak English and even if they
did they don't want to talk, even when I try out my
bare essential Bengali. But all they really want is to
be smiled at and held and washed and hugged and loved,
and the sisters and the volunteers do this better than
anyone. I think for some of the patients it is the
first time anyone has ever showed them any compassion,
and they often need somebody to stroke their hair for
them to fall asleep. I love this part and it is
helping me become more compassionate and trained in
the non-medical aspects of healing.

Everything is overwhelming here, it's true, but
somehow it compells you to love it and to keep going
despite the problems. The light that shines from the
people here is brilliant beneath the grime and all I
can do is pray and have faith that one day they will
be given the things they need and deserve. There is
still enough natural beauty and such a unique culture
here that everyday is a great adventure that tears
your emotions to pieces but leaves you wanting more.
And what is happening in terms of our spiritual
growth...that is the most amazing part. I love this
group and I think we each bring something essential
and powerful to the dynamic that compels us move
closer to Christ.

Elissa

It's dirty, it's noisy, it's chaotic.

2005-07-03T17:32:00.000-04:00

The first day of volunteering was an interesting experience. I was at Daya Dan, which is a children's orphanage for the disabled. We spent the morning playing and singing with the kid's. Some of the kid's are blind, while others are autistic, have muscular dystrophy, or other such ailments. Though they can be a handful, the kid's have a lot of love to give. I nearly broke down a few times on the first day as I was so overcome with emotion. Having a child latch onto me and want to be held can do that. There are some kids who have all their mental capacities, but are physically restricted by an ailment. A boy named Mongol is one of them. He's afflicted with muscular dystrophy but is really quite brilliant. He speaks several languages but can't move around. He often asks me to pick him up and take him to the fish tank so he can see the fishes. The other day, as music was playing in the background he said "I want to dance with you". So I picked him up and held him in my arms as I spun around the room dancing. He smiled and laughed.

In spite of some of the really great moments it is tough to see kid's in the situation that they are in. Living in an orphanage is a very tough life. Yet it's been explained to me that these years will likely be the best of their lives because once they get older, they'll be transfered to a more adult type of institution where the care isn't as good. It's hard to believe things could be worse than what they face right now. I do my best not to think about it, and just show them as much love as I can while I'm here.

So far I haven't been loving my time in India. There are too many people, it's dirty, it's noisy, and it's chaotic. I can't believe people live like this. Perhaps it'll grow on me. I was talking with an Italian girl this afternoon who's been here for two months already. She told me that after her first few days in India all she wanted to do was go home. Now she dreads the idea of going home at the end of July. Perhaps that'll happen for me too. Here's hoping.

Buh Bye! (Click)
Nick DeBrey

Day 18

2005-05-31T08:05:00.000-04:00

Well are time in Calcutta went by so fast and we are just getting ready to
leave for Darjeeling tonight! We will be taking an overnight train for
about 10 hours and then a 4-5 hour jeep ride! We are all a little freaked
out over the train ride but just like everything else in India, it will be
an experience! I can say for myself that I am glad to be getting out of
Calcutta. The work that we have been doing is absolutely amazing but the
city itself takes a real toll on you! Nothing is easy here! But hey, if it
wasn't a challenge, it wouldn't be fun right?!?!?

It was very hard to leave the centres that I have been volunteering at,
especially Shanti Dan. There was an extreme mix of emotions that
overwhelmed me. One of the ladies that I had been spending quite a bit of
time with over the past couple of weeks, ran away yesterday. It breaks my
heart because she is extremely weak and generally not quite with it. I can
only imagine the situation she will find herself in back on the streets of
Calcutta. It really makes me think about the lives of the hundreds of
people I pass everyday on the street....their lives are HARD!!! I pray that
God will be with her wherever she ends up and that by some miracle she may
find herself back at Shanti Dan.

I have gone through so many emotions and feelings about Shanti Dan, which is
basically a centre for women who are emotionally and mentally unstable, most
of which have either been abandoned by husbands or family members or whose
family didn't know how to care for a mentally ill family member and either
dropped them off at one of the sister's centres or at a prison. At first I
thought, what kind of life is this? To spend the rest of your existence in
a centre with 200 other mentally ill patients who are bored and drugged up?
But in India, or calcutta at least, there is no social assistance for women
like this. These women have had their FAIR SHARE of struggles and some
whose stories are extremely intense. I feel so lucky to have been able to
share time with these ladies and learn so much from them!!!! I will
definitely miss their smiles and their songs!

So as we head up North to Debrief about our trip, I pray that God would
continue to work in all of our lives and begin to open our eyes to what he
has done for us during our time in Calcutta. Because God knows we have had
our own struggles, moments of complete confusion, times where I have felt
utterly incapable and helpless as well as time of complete JOY and PEACE!!!

"I can't SING but I got SOUL."

Laura

Day 18

2005-05-28T07:09:00.000-04:00

from: Lisa
when: 27 May, 9:40 pm
re: this and that in Calcutta

I promised Jam I'd do the next blog update, but because I'm very
sleepy and way hot in this sticky internet cafe, I'ma have to do it in
enumerated form. Here's what's going on with Freedomize India:

1. laundry at Shanti Dan

Is a daily exercise in frustration / hilarity /' getting wet. We
handwash clothes and sheets for the entire place with a group of about
20 mentally ill women. Dont know about you, but to me that spells
Party. Only about 7 women actually participate in laundry -- the rest
stand around and watch, and point and laugh at the white girls when we
get splashed with the soapy water (which happens a lot). That seems
to be the indian way. But hey, if I can brighten these womens' lives
by making them laugh there butts off at me doing their laundry, then
that is ok.

Laura and I thought we might form our own handwashing laundry co-op
when we get back to Toronto.

2. Poop.

Actually what I want to say is S--t, but I probably shouldn't on this
blog. It is the most oftern used word in our group meetings, both
because of our daily work and all the s--t we come in contact with, as
well as the pure joy of saying the word s--t instead of "stuff" when
you are tired and hot. We're thinking of getting shirts made that say
s--t in hindi.

3. Pizza Hut

Is where we had dinner tonight, and it was frickin awesome. Not so
much because of the food as for the servers, who busted out into a
coreographed dance routine at the end of our meal. It was the shit.

4. Brothels

Is what we went to see this afternoon in a bad Calcutta neighborhood.
Mostly we felt like fools walking around there, and I was too ashamed
to look any of the prostitues in the eye. Nonetheless, it made an
impression on me and got me thinking, so I am glad that I went.

5. The Monster Play

For our "day off" (har har), we participated in a little drama and
dance, authored by a quirky mexican nun, for the special Volunteer's
Mass at the Mother House. Well, the rest of the group participated,
while I was at the hotel coughing my lungs out. It was a pretty
surreal and very long show. At every single rehearsal, Sister
Corinna, drunk with power, added another surreal and strange component
to the show. Andrew played Jesus, and Andrea played Mother T. Laura
danced to our rendition of The Magnificat. We also sang a "funked up"
version of Amazing Grace. Oh yeah.

6. Staying longer

Esther and I decided to stay in Calcutta till July. Why? I don't
really know. Maybe the fumes I inhale daily on the street are going
to my head.

7. Quirky old ladies

at Shanti Dan. Rule. There's one who's name I can't pronounce, and
who talks incessantly all day long. She doesn't give two s--ts what I
cant understand Bengali, and I think she and I are now buddies. Two
days ago I got a visiting student from Calcutta U to translate 5
minutes of her ranting. She said: "She says that you should
marry...she says can find you a good man. She has 2 daughters and 4
sons. She says you take her with you to Canada, and she will cook you
good rice and fish."

Works for me.

peace out,

lisa

Day 17

2005-05-28T06:47:00.000-04:00

Hi Everyone,

I need to rant a bit about India today. I don't understand why there is so
much poverty and wealth in this world? No matter where you go, there seems
to be those who have and those who have not. It is starting to sicken me.
A little piece of paper with some man's picture on it (money) decides so
much in a person's life. Where you will live, who your friends are and if
you have enough food to eat at night. I am starting to question why God
allows suffering. I dont' understand why He answers my little prayers and
brings healing into my life. Yet others appear to suffer for years and I
don't understand it. I know God is compassionate yet, where is He in the
midst of so many things?

Today we went to the brothels which really bothered me. I felt like a
tourist and if I lived in the brothel I thought I would be really angry at
white people walking through. I don't feel like for a second I could
understand what it would be like to wake up after sleeping with one man
after another. The emotional scars and pain must run very deep and yet I
would guess they are numb to it in other ways. To imagine how worthless and
shameful it would feel but maybe normal at the same time if you grew up with
your own mother and grandmother as prostitues. The children are even
involved in this "profession" a childhood innoence taken away at the hands
of some person who probably blends in with everyone else on the surface. I
feel like I am doing very little to help with the entrenched problems that
India faces. I am hoping that the little bit of love I show those I am
volunteering with will result in a little blessing for that person (even if
its only for a few moments). I struggle at the thought of going back home,
where again I will be faced with more exposure to people's pain. I have
lacked quiet times since coming to India and feel like I am drifting from
God. I need to refocus and run back into His arms as He weeps with me
looking into the faces of the broken. I need to start praying for healing
and restoration for in Him nothing is impossible. I am helpless here
because I dont' even know where to begin but hopefully He can use me in some
small way, I just need to be open to it.

Andrea

Day 15

2005-05-26T11:41:00.000-04:00

So it was our day off today, and we were a part of a special mass for
volunteers. It was really interesting to hear some of the stories of
how the sisters chose to become nuns. The concept of giving
everything, your entire life, to God isn't a new one for me, but it
was neat to see how these women had done it to the extreme. It was
pretty challenging for me - would I be willing to give up money,
possessions, family, ambitions for Jesus? (Good thing I'm not
Catholic... :) ) Here, removed from everything back home, it's a bit
easier to contemplate. But the cool thing is that I know I could give
everything up and lead an amazing life because God came to 'give life,
and life more abundantly', and He didn't mean cadillacs.

So I've met some really fascinating patients at Prem Dan, the long
term care home. There are ladies there who I look at and I just
wonder, how did they get there? So many of them are so broken,
mentally, physically, emotionally, but I'm certain that they weren't
always like that. What are their stories? The Chinese lady who only
ever makes undistinguishable sounds, the caucasian lady who speaks
perfect, dignified English, the woman who only moans all day... I have
a feeling it might be better for me if I never heard their stories.
These ladies are beautiful though, even in their brokenness. I see
glimpses of their beauty in their smiles, their eyes following me,
their nods. It gets easier every day to see Jesus in them...

Esther

Day 14

2005-05-26T01:24:00.000-04:00

I was talking to one of the few patients in Kalighat who speaks English today, a woman named, oddly enough, Jean Skinner. She cannot use her legs. One of them was broken and never healed properly because as soon as she broke it and could not work she was thrown onto the streets. The other is stiff because of an old injury. I asked her what it's like at night in Kalighat. She said something like this:
"At night I cannot sleep because this girl next to me, who is paralysed, cries and moans without stopping. She cannot move at all, and has a lot of pain. The other women do not like her and abuse her with words. I do not like how they abuse words. It is dirty. It is hard to sleep at night. I get headaches because it is so loud sometimes. Last night a woman was calling out for cream pies. 'I want a cream pie!' she cried. 'No cream pies here', everyone shouted back, and she was quiet."
Jean also asked me for chocolate. "We get sweets sometimes, but only sugar. I like chocolate. You should bring me some. All of the volunteers should bring us gifts because we are poor and you have everything."

The other women at Kalighat cannot speak to me in words that I understand, but It's amazing how much is communicated by a glance. Fatima has cancer and wants to die. Her despair and hopelessness are evident.
"Kamen achen, Fatima (how are you?)" She touches her face where the cancer worsens everyday and gestures helplessly. I helped dress her face with a nurse the other day. As we removed the bandage, milky fluid ran down her dress and spurted from the fissure in her face. She simply closed her eyes, communicating what I could never express in words in that single gesture. It was something like pain, and frustration taken so far it becomes helplessness.

Jhosna is mostly blind, and what she says, she says with touch. As I was bathing her a few days ago with another volunteer, she became very distressed. As I sang to her and touched her cheek, she grasped my arm, closed her eyes, and became still. That is all she can do - open and close her eyes, use her arms, and make noises. I have no idea what happened to her legs but they are cramped and curled up and misshapen.

These are some of the amazing women at Kalighat, women I have come to admire and respect more each day. Through all that has happened to them, they have remained full of dignity and grace. They are so much stronger than I will ever be, and they are surrounded by a sense of beauty and wisdom. I feel I cannot express here, in writing, all that they have taught me with their words and gestures, but it is something priceless. That I have been blessed with the amazing privilege of trying to serve them is a precious gift.

Chelsea

Day 13

2005-05-24T08:44:00.000-04:00

Renegade Street Doctor.

Waiting for one of those crazyass rickshaws after volunteering at PremDan this morning, a couple of kids came up to me. "Uncle, Uncle," they said, pointing to various wounds. One had an oozing, white puss-filled wound on his hand. The other, the front of his big too cut through, about 1/4" deep and another cut on his ankle.

Carrying a first-aid kit with me everywhere has proven to be a good thing. I haven't been hurt much myself, but I'm starting to see the benefit of carrying around a little disinfectant, some bandages and gauze. Ryan was mentioning this the other day - and today I was confronted with an opportunity to do something outside of the ordinary routine of work in one of Ma Teresa's homes.

As best I could, I cleaned out the various wounds on the street with my available weapons. Alcohol swabs and disinfectant. Drying them off, I bandaged them up and sent them on their way. As I turned to enter the rickshaw, I noticed a small crowd of 25 Indian people watching on. Apparently it's quite a sight to see a funny-looking blonde-haired, blue-eyed white man tending to peoples' wounds on the street.

The thing is, tho, these are the wounds that lead to a lot bigger infections. Simple, treatable problems that don't get looked at early turn into gangrenous infections, and sometimes amputation or death. Some of the people we see in Kalighat might not have to be there, if it were for a simple dressing that would prevent infection on Kolkata's grimy streets. I hope that we're able to help. God has given us the opportunity to serve and to help. I guess it's a matter of taking what He's given us, and acting lovingly in response. I hope and pray that God will continue to challenge is in new ways, and to present new opportunities to serve as we remain in the city.

ajhr (Andrew)

Day 12

2005-05-23T11:48:00.000-04:00

Hello friends!
Many members of the team have been getting sick, then getting better, then
sometimes getting sick again. Other teams are dropping like flies as well. Its
part of the package deal, so please pray for them all.
Another day at Shanti Dan, the home for women both mentally and physically
disabled. Sometimes they're a little crazy, and I think its partially the
drugs. The women are starting to trust us more each day, which is wonderful,
but it is also hard because their stories break our hearts even more. I am sad
for some of them because they will spend the rest of thier lives there, but
joyful for others because they need the constant care. At Shanti Dan there is a
building of children with skin problems also, and man was that fun. They
honestly climb all over you, and this is not lie. They pull at your bandanna
and make you spin them around. Its all good because they need to be held, its
just a little overwhelming.
This is truly an exhausting way of life. You get up at 5 or 6 and go to bed a
varying hours -- who knew I would want to go to bed at 9? The heat is
exhausting, and we're all trying to drink litres of water a day to stay
hydrated.
My life is changed since the day I got here. This place screams how important
it is to live simply in the West because it has a direct effect on the poor
here and elsewhere in the world. Our consumer, throw away society must be paid
for somehow, and much of the time that sends families on the streets, even
through the monsoons.
Pray for all of us, we need it every moment. Pray that the Lord will guide us
with what to do when we meet people on the street. Pray for health and sanity,
and a safe return. God bless.

Bethany

Day 11

2005-05-22T11:01:00.000-04:00

May 22, 2005

Hi Eveyone,

I am struggling/trying to learn what it means to serve in India. I find
that I need to check myself because my attitude can easily become
self-centred and yet I don't want to fill myself with guilt for my faults.
I keep praying that I will experience more of God's love because I know out
of that I will be able to show more compassion and grace to others. I
initially found it very difficult to volunteer at Kalighat because I was
scared of how sick people were. I don't even like hospitals in Toronto.
However, after being there about three times I started to feel more
comfortable and started seeing the people for who they are. This trip is
kinda weird in some ways, I feel like I am learning stuff but in some ways I
am not sure exactly what it is right now. Definitely, the poverty is severe
and at times I feel emotionally numb. My heart would constantly be breaking
if I allowed myself to truely absorb all the suffering around me.

It was so nice, last night to go out with some of the girls on the trip for
a drink. The breaks from the volunteering are needed and wonderful. The
biscuts and chai tea are really good (but I still really miss Tim Hortons
coffee and need an extra large when I get back).

That's all for now,
Andrea

Day 10

2005-05-22T07:11:00.000-04:00

The team is doing better, even though the temperature is going up again. The heat really kicked the crap out of us in the first week and so the last couple days, when the temperature dropped as low as 30C, were needed.

Shannon headed out this morning at 4am. I dropped her at the airport and endured the drive back to the hostel only to crash for the remainder of the day. It's sunday here, and I've served in the homes once since I got sick 4 days ago. I think it was four days ago. It's all becoming a blur.

I feel like I'm learning so much more than I did last year even though I'm primarily serving the needs of the team rather than the needs of the patients in the MC homes. I feel torn and I'm not entirely sure why. I think it has something to do with feeling like I'm just visiting this time, and that the significance that will come out of this trip is going to happen in my life rather than the lives of those I've served here. The difference being that last year I was glad to be able to do something where I could see the fruits of my labour right away. It's great to get a smile out of somebody who is dying, or has no family or friends, but I can do so much more at home by being responsible in the way that I live. Doing my utmost to support responsible corporations, and Christlike relations on all levels in the world. I'm not sure what that is going to look like yet, but I know that it looks different than my life before I left.

Pray for health. Specifically, Jam, Ryan, Andrew and Chelsea have been sick for a couple days now, to varying degrees, but we all want to be better.

Ryan

Day 5.5?

2005-05-18T03:21:00.000-04:00

Lisa Neef

Hey Everyone!

Today I am off volunteering because I am sick, but not as sick as
Andrew, Laura, Ryan and Chelsea (mmm...ganges water), so I took it
upon myself to trek to the internet cafe and write a blog note.

Calcutta....is starting to grow on me. Not that I want to move here,
but it's really something to have LIFE in your face all the time like
this. The order we have in Toronto feels like a fragile mirage now,
or something...you can see the high entropy of the modern world here
in Calcutta.

Our first 3 days of volunteering, it took a lot of strength to make
myself go back to Kalighat. It's better now...though the smell still
makes me want to run away. It's a mix (I think) of cleaner, medication
and ...dying?, and it kind of haunts me. I get whiffs of it on the
street sometimes and it sends a shudder down my spine.

So, ...Kalighat. What can I say that will do the experience justice.
I'm not afraid of the patients anymore - havent been sine day 3, when
a woman whom I was giving water wouldn't stop crying and all I could
think to do was hold her hand and sing quietly to her, to drown out,
for 5 minutes, the constant yelling from the attendants (who I don't
like at all...the sisters are wonderful but the attendants are
horrible).

When we walk home from Kalighat in the evening when the
sun starts to set, we can no longer walk on the sidewalks because they
become peoples' homes. And since I can't stop thinking about their
faces when I read my Bible at night, scripture is taking on all new,
deeper meaning for me.

And, interspersed with that, we have moments of hilarious laughter,
like when we pile 7 people into a tiny auto-rickshaw and the driver
still stops to pick up an extra fare, or when volunteers get into
arguments about the differences between bedpans and piss-bottles. I
often think of Apu from the Simpsons going, "Look! The craziness!"

peace,
Lisa

Day 5?

2005-05-18T03:15:00.000-04:00

Shannon Clarke

14 May 2005
Hotel Astoria, Calcutta

Seriously? How?

I got to bed last night just after nine. I slept all right, I suppose. I froze, though. I turned the air conditioning down before I went to bed. The room was coolish, but definitely not cold. My bed, however, is next to the AC unit.

I woke up at four and couldn't get back to sleep. I lay here and listened to music until it was time to get up at five.

We got dressed and walked to the Mother House for the six o'clock mass. I nearly passed out during it. And not just because Catholics are seriously weird, either...

I was dizzy and weak. I felt nauseated and head-achey. I couldn't stand at all the predetermined times.

As soon as the service was over, I told Mr Army Dude. He laughed and told me I was dehydrated. He gave me a packet of rehydration stuff to drink.

How? I drank 5 or 6 litres of water yesterday and had already had another 1.5 by seven that morning. So really, how could I be dehydrated?

Apparently, dehydration is more than just water. It's also about the salts and electrolytes that are being sweated out.

So I've been shipped back to the hotel to drink salty gatorade and sleep while everybody else is out doing the work we came here to do. Nice.

I should be well enough for the afternoon shift. The salty gatorade seems to work pretty quickly.

On the bright side, the guys were right: the Mother House does serve the best chai anywhere. Three cups of it and I've almost stopped craving coffe.

Sleep now.

Day 3.

2005-05-15T09:01:00.000-04:00

Today we attended Mass with the sisters at 6:00am, which required a 5:00am wakeup for the team. 5:00am doesn't exist in India as the streets are jsut starting to wakeup as we head out the door at 5:20. Mass was really good and I enjoy the singing with the sisters. But the best part of the day is drinking nun chai. I swear they must pray over this chai before they pass it out - it's sooo good. They also serve these army ration biscuits from Europe - rumour has it that each one contains 3 eggs. One of our team members, Shannon pointed out that she hasn't eaten three eggs in 4 years. Interesting.

The group has split up and we are serving at 4 different centres, which is up from 2 last year. We are getting use to the heat and the schedule and I lookd forward to reporting some interesting stories in the future...but now it's curry dinner time.

Blessings
Jam

Day 1

2005-05-13T00:45:00.000-04:00

The team made it safe and sound. Four adventurous souls ventured into London for a whirlwind tour of the city, before making it back to the airport for the final 10hrs of the trip to Kolkata.

So we got in and Jam was waiting for us at the airport with transportation to the hotel. We made the drive safely and the team is resting in the hotel while Jam and I sort out some details for your first day. We're going to orientation at the Mother House later today after we do a type of "Amazing Race" in Calcutta. Teams are going to have to get digital photos of certain places and return in order to win. We're not sure what the prize is yet, but we'll think of something.

Well, my time on the internet is up, so I'm going to say goodbye for now.

Ryan

Work, Work, Work

2005-01-29T14:21:00.000-05:00

Hi Y'all,

So Jam and I've be been putting in some serious hours on this trip, and we're both pretty stoked about it. Things are coming together nicely, there are some great people interested, and there is good support for it. Personally, I'm learning a great deal about managing my time better, as well as the inner workings of logistics on a missions/volunteer trip. The biggest thing is getting organized between two minds. I'm sure that if there were only one person in charge of this trip that they would be pulling their hair out but the cumullative hours would be less than what Jam and I both put in. I'm just really glad to be going back as a leader and helping others experience what I was blessed to experience last summer as a team member.

Ryan

bumping into pics

2005-01-26T15:11:00.000-05:00

I recently got my laptop fixed and was browsing for some old India file when I bumped into [funny how that phrase works] some old 2004 India pics. It was really cool to see the old team and brought back alot of memories - a good pic was us celebrating one of our team members birthday on a rooftop restaurant in overlooking Calcutta. The joy on our faceless was priceless. It made me think of this years team and what adventures layed in stored for us.
Till the future
Jam

Freedomizeindia Blog #1

2005-01-15T13:57:00.000-05:00

Welcome to the Freedomizeindia blog!

This space will evolve over the next couple months as our trip emerges from preparation to debrief. Right now we are in preparation stage and it's been hetic! As our trip has slightly changed to serving those in Calcutta to helping those recently affected from the tsunami disaster. Our first information session is this Sunday and it's been fun putting together programs for future applicants.

Please feel free to comment, our email us about anything that is interesting.

Peace to all and to all be peace
Jam