One of my favorite times of day is when our group of 12 comes together for evening reflection. We take turns leading the time, each conversation of sharing, support, and laughter an essential part of the service we do for each other -- and a type of -boot for the service that we are doing with others throughout our packed days here.
Last night in our nightly group reflection, I asked everyone to think back to the motivations that brought each of us through this journey. This service trip, of course, is not 3 weeks longs -- but rather a journey of about 9 months to include fundraising, weekly meetings, and spiritual and physical preparations.
For me, as it is my second year that I blessed with this opportunity to be in Kolkata with the SMC program, the motivation that came to mind instantly was "to see old friends." Like Rachael, I volunteered with the women of Shantidan last year, and I became so attached to my friends there that the only way I could gracefully depart from Kolkata was to focus on the hope of being able to return this year.
One of my friends at Shantidan, Salma, passed away last night after rapid two-day illness. Inadequate for words to describe this unexpected loss and grief that I am just beginning to truly "feel,", I will share here some descriptions that I have written previously about my love for this good friend:
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June 5, 2010 (foto above; excerpt from email to US family at the end of last trip)
"today was really great/really hard -- loved my time with the women this morning, but it was the last one. I took lots of photos -- only allowed on your last day -- and made balloon hats for them which they loved! and put bindis on everyone's heads (you know, the colored dots on the foreheads?). it was so, so, so hard to say goodbye, especially to this one woman who I felt a really special connection with. really, there were like 5 or 6 who I really cared for in a different way, but this one woman, Salma, had something in her eyes that really spoke to me incredibly, and we could just sit there together in companionship, and her goodbye was so heartfelt, the way she held my hand and looked straight into my own eyes, I am tearing up right now just remembering, and it was so hard to look away but I had to because I was starting to cry in that moment of saying goodbye and I'm not sure culturally how that is read here -- I am trying to help myself by thinking that I will be able to come back next year to see them all -- because they will never go anywhere else, the women who live there. so as long as I come back (and nothing bad happens to them), I will see them again."
May 24, 2011 (excerpt from email to US family at beginning of this trip)
"On a higher note, let me share with you the good news about Salma. Salma is one of my best friends from last year, and one of the reasons that I was anxious to return. Last year, Salma and I bonded through long sits together, with very few words -- as she did not speak at all. Not once during the 3 weeks did I hear her voice, but all the same, my heart ached most when I had to say goodbye last June. Yesterday, when I arrived for the first time (again), Salma was one of the faces I was seeking, although I knew that she might not be there anymore -- or, she might not remember me. I found her within the first 15 minutes, and just like the strong embrace of any old friend, it was a most amazing reunion. Not only were we reconnecting with our eyes and hugs, though -- Salma now is speaking! She has an visible energy that was hidden last year, possibly due to her stage in trauma recovery, or due to an inappropriate dosage of medication or sedatives. Today, I did not see Salma until the end of my morning, when she called to me across the dining room, "Auntie, how are you?" In English! (That is as far as the conversation goes at this point, but it is awesome to share a few words even so!)
May 31, 2011 (excerpt from email to US family yesterday)
"Much worse than the nauseau caused by the triple dose of preventative antibiotic that the Sister kindly insisted that we take was the feeling of seeing friends I care so deeply about in discomfort and weakness. My friend Salma, one of the stars in my last email stories, was one of the patients today. After looking along the familiar hallways for her, and her typical spot at the lunch table, I found her in the dormitory style room where the Sisters and Massis (local staff) have set up a type of mini-medical unit. Salma was on the floor, transitioning between soiled clothing and bedding to fresh make-shift clothing and bedding, with the aid of the staff. Given her out-of-it state, similar to that of the other patients, I assume that she had been given some sort of sedative -- which while likely providing comfort to her, provided me with a scary glimpse of a vacant friend. The women who are being treated...mostly through IV hydration, require cloth-made ties between their limbs and the bed to keep them safe. There are no extra doctors on site, but everyone is doing what they can to work together. I feel unequipped for such urgency, such importance, and am overwhelmed by the sadness. This describes just about 60 seconds in my day today. No wonder why we all find ourselves exhausted! Our service work here demands full emotional, physical, and mental presence. And, our service work provides innumerable gifts. "
--------------------
Last night in our nightly group reflection, I asked everyone to think back to the motivations that brought each of us through this journey. This service trip, of course, is not 3 weeks longs -- but rather a journey of about 9 months to include fundraising, weekly meetings, and spiritual and physical preparations.
For me, as it is my second year that I blessed with this opportunity to be in Kolkata with the SMC program, the motivation that came to mind instantly was "to see old friends." Like Rachael, I volunteered with the women of Shantidan last year, and I became so attached to my friends there that the only way I could gracefully depart from Kolkata was to focus on the hope of being able to return this year.
One of my friends at Shantidan, Salma, passed away last night after rapid two-day illness. Inadequate for words to describe this unexpected loss and grief that I am just beginning to truly "feel,", I will share here some descriptions that I have written previously about my love for this good friend:
---------------------
June 5, 2010 (foto above; excerpt from email to US family at the end of last trip)
"today was really great/really hard -- loved my time with the women this morning, but it was the last one. I took lots of photos -- only allowed on your last day -- and made balloon hats for them which they loved! and put bindis on everyone's heads (you know, the colored dots on the foreheads?). it was so, so, so hard to say goodbye, especially to this one woman who I felt a really special connection with. really, there were like 5 or 6 who I really cared for in a different way, but this one woman, Salma, had something in her eyes that really spoke to me incredibly, and we could just sit there together in companionship, and her goodbye was so heartfelt, the way she held my hand and looked straight into my own eyes, I am tearing up right now just remembering, and it was so hard to look away but I had to because I was starting to cry in that moment of saying goodbye and I'm not sure culturally how that is read here -- I am trying to help myself by thinking that I will be able to come back next year to see them all -- because they will never go anywhere else, the women who live there. so as long as I come back (and nothing bad happens to them), I will see them again."
May 24, 2011 (excerpt from email to US family at beginning of this trip)
"On a higher note, let me share with you the good news about Salma. Salma is one of my best friends from last year, and one of the reasons that I was anxious to return. Last year, Salma and I bonded through long sits together, with very few words -- as she did not speak at all. Not once during the 3 weeks did I hear her voice, but all the same, my heart ached most when I had to say goodbye last June. Yesterday, when I arrived for the first time (again), Salma was one of the faces I was seeking, although I knew that she might not be there anymore -- or, she might not remember me. I found her within the first 15 minutes, and just like the strong embrace of any old friend, it was a most amazing reunion. Not only were we reconnecting with our eyes and hugs, though -- Salma now is speaking! She has an visible energy that was hidden last year, possibly due to her stage in trauma recovery, or due to an inappropriate dosage of medication or sedatives. Today, I did not see Salma until the end of my morning, when she called to me across the dining room, "Auntie, how are you?" In English! (That is as far as the conversation goes at this point, but it is awesome to share a few words even so!)
May 31, 2011 (excerpt from email to US family yesterday)
"Much worse than the nauseau caused by the triple dose of preventative antibiotic that the Sister kindly insisted that we take was the feeling of seeing friends I care so deeply about in discomfort and weakness. My friend Salma, one of the stars in my last email stories, was one of the patients today. After looking along the familiar hallways for her, and her typical spot at the lunch table, I found her in the dormitory style room where the Sisters and Massis (local staff) have set up a type of mini-medical unit. Salma was on the floor, transitioning between soiled clothing and bedding to fresh make-shift clothing and bedding, with the aid of the staff. Given her out-of-it state, similar to that of the other patients, I assume that she had been given some sort of sedative -- which while likely providing comfort to her, provided me with a scary glimpse of a vacant friend. The women who are being treated...mostly through IV hydration, require cloth-made ties between their limbs and the bed to keep them safe. There are no extra doctors on site, but everyone is doing what they can to work together. I feel unequipped for such urgency, such importance, and am overwhelmed by the sadness. This describes just about 60 seconds in my day today. No wonder why we all find ourselves exhausted! Our service work here demands full emotional, physical, and mental presence. And, our service work provides innumerable gifts. "
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Through this, and all of our posts, you can see why people always talk about service in Kolkata as a life-changing experience.* Just as those of us here (and folks from prior trips) can appreciate the difference between "Kolkata pretty" and "at-home pretty," "Kolkata clean" and "at-home clean," -- we also continue to experience every day the joys and sadness of what our "Kolkata friendships" mean to us. These are the people that within days -- and sometimes even minutes -- force us to open our hearts with their fierce love, compassion, and trust. My "Kolkata friends" are some of the most influential, loving, and important people I will ever know.
During our group reflection last night, Joel reminded me of a famous quote with the most important point: "Today is a gift." While today has been the hardest yet for me through both trips in Kolkata, I can still see this gift in the smiles, hugs, and loving eyes in the other women at Shantidan. I can see it through the support of my group here in Kolkata, and the support of my family and friends at home in the US, and my friends who make up our "host family" here on Sudder Street. I am blessed each day with so many gifts -- and will never forget the gift of Salma. Namaskar, bondhu!
*PS: Having been fortunate enough to be a part of service in many different communities both domestically and abroad, I can tell you, that service anywhere can be a life-changing experience! If you have the chance, take it!
Anne-
ReplyDeleteYour words are powerful and honest. I love your approach and deep understanding of the positive side of Kolkata. It's a gentle reminder to me that when I speak of Kolkata, I often recognize I'm leaving out the deeper, more spiritual connectedness that comes with each interaction and experience the trip takes you on. This entry shows that even being there for ONE person or simply celebrating a victory of SPEAKING with one person is more than nothing and frankly we can measure service in grandiose ideas and plans. You each are making huge impacts-keep on shining :)
Be well,
Meg Kerrigan
Spend some time meditating on John 14:12-14. You are truly doing such things. You will be weary from such work as Jesus himself did. A favorite passage that illustrates this is Luke8:46. When you get together and lift each other up in the name of our precious Lord you are renewed. Thank you for your witness. We love you.
ReplyDeleteMary Ann Smus
Today is a gift...you are a gift! Anne, I am feeling very sad for you but on the same end so happy you were able to see Salma upon your return to Kolkata. You brought love and happiness to her in her final days, which was a gift for both of you. You are all truly a gift!!!!! ox
ReplyDeleteAnne I'm so sorry for your loss. I don't know what I would have done had Agnes or Maya died last year at Kalighat.. i mean like you, i always knew it was a possibility, but it's still not something you can ever really prepare for. I'm glad you got to see her again and see how much she improved. Know that you were part of that and that every moment you spent with her was a happy one that she may not have otherwise had. I'm glad you both had those special times together.. that's why we do this service. Stay strong, keep giving all your heart, I know you will.
ReplyDeleteLove,
Heather