April 15th

Today is my mother's birthday; she would be turning 67. Happy birthday mum!

Since I only spent a few minutes at Mother House a couple days ago, before being whisked off to the registration center, I decided to go spend more time there today to celebrate my mother's birthday and meditate. First, a little backtracking.

Yesterday, I explored the city a little more, walking down Park Street, which is like the St-Catherine of Montreal or the 5th Avenue of New York. Nice hotels, fancy boutiques, western restaurants. But of course, with a touch of India - beggars, loud honking, garbage everywhere (if only there were occasional trash cans, so much littering could be avoided). That evening, I went out for dinner with Marianka (girl from South Africa I went to the cricket match with) and 3 Germans she met while volunteering that day. She was only doing one day of volunteering, as she was leaving today, going back to Thailand where she has lived for the past 2 years. Told her I'd get in touch with her when I make it to South Africa one day!

This morning, at ten to nine, I was woken by the sound of, "Hello? Hello?! Help! Hello?! Help! Someone help! I'm stuck in my bathroom! I can't get  out! I'm in room 201 at The Golden Apple! Hello? Help me please!!" I was in room 202. I listened a few seconds more, understood that someone from the alley below had heard and responded. "Thank you! Please hurry!!" A couple minutes went by, nothing happened, she kept yelling. So I got up, got dressed, and went down to reception to let them know my neighbor was stuck in her bathroom (sounds a little comical as I write it, but she really sounded distressed!). There was another man from the floor above us who was also there reporting the shouts, and the security guy from outside then came in, having been told about the situation by someone who heard her in the streets. Ok, they knew, I could return to my room. While brushing my teeth, I could hear her from next door: "No, stop. It has nothing to do with the lock. The knob is broken, you'll have to remove the whole handle. It has nothing to do with the lock!" I went over to make sure the people there could understand English, turns out her English friend was there (was she out when her friend was stuck and yelling?). So again I returned to my room. A few minutes later, I heard her thanking the guys, she was saved. When I took my shower a little later, I put a soap box to stop the door from shutting completely... just in case.
 

Went out for some internet and breakfast at the great little Raj's Spanish Cafe, where I saw a huge banner advertising Raj's motorbike fundraiser trip, from Howrah Bridge in Kolkata to London Bridge in, you guessed it, London. If you want to donate (funds are to build a free hospital in Kolkata) or just check it out, go to www.bridge2bridge.in. It's a great project! Then it was back to Golden Apple for packing and check-out, moving 3 minutes away, down Stuart Lane off Sudder Street to Galaxy Guesthouse. Great, friendly spot, but back to basics. Simple, scruffy room with no AC, but a strong, quiet fan. I'll be there for a week, till my overnight train next Saturday. Last night, Marianka gave me her Indian SIM card (since she was leaving) so I could try it out in my cell phone (which I brought but never used). Went to an AirTel booth today, but turns out my phone is locked to its original network. Cheapest phone they had for sale was 25 bucks, so I got one. It's cheaper to call home from pre-paid cards than international calling booths, and now that I'm settled here for a week (and there are lots of other foreigners), I've met some people to do activities with, and they all have phones, so figured I'd get in the loop. Connected in Calcutta!

Then I was off to the Mother House (called Swati on the walk there, had a nice chat). I went into the exhibition hall, where there is a very nice display of Mother Teresa's life, with info, pictures and objects. I really loved seeing the brown leather sandals she walked around Calcutta in, and had to laugh to myself when I saw, behind the glass casing, a big stack of used envelopes that she kept for reuse, which, with my hoarder tendencies, is something I also collect. After reading through the panels, learning so much more than what I already knew about this fascinating woman, I went into the room where her body is buried. There is a beautiful tomb, some gorgeous paintings made by a local artist for the commemoration of the hundredth year of her birth (2010), then sat on a wooden bench and meditated. I meditated on Mother Teresa, Mother Joy, Mother I, and just Mother. I imagined Mother Teresa sitting beside me on my left, Mother Joy on my right, and I meditated on the connection between the three of us. Then on the unity of us all. The loud, incessant honking coming through the windows from the busy street behind me slowly became music to my ears, and then it faded completely as I fell into profound peace. Other tourists coming in, sitting on the bench near me, and creating a little sound and movement are what brought me back to the room. I slowly opened my eyes, gathered my bag, camera and water bottle, and walked to the entrance of the room where there was paper and pen for prayer requests. I wrote one for mom, folded it, and put it into the simple wooden box on top of Mother Teresa's tomb.

Back out into the noisy street, I headed in the direction of the Park Street Cemetery. I remember how much mom loved walking through cemeteries and reading the inscriptions on the tombs, and my guidebook said this one was quite impressive. I had the city map in my memory, but turned in the wrong direction when I got to Park St. Asked a cop along the way where it was, and I walked in the direction he pointed. There were no more tourists in this part of town, and the further I walked, the less I felt like I should be there. Got to another main intersection, still no sign of the cemetery, so I turned back and used my quick-paced, confident, I-know-where-I'm-going-walk. Let me tell you, there was no shortage of sweat drippage as I sped-walked through the sunny mid-afternoon streets of the city. Got back to the main area where I had asked the cop, decided to give up on the cemetery for today, and made my way back towards home along Park Street. Two minutes later, there it was on my left. It had closed 15 minutes ago. Bummer. Would have made it if I didn't get lost. (But did get some fantastic photos of grimy city life along the way!) I'll try going back later this week. Stopped at Barista Cafe for a sandwich and kiwi-lemonade, then made my way back to Sudder St, and here I am writing my blog. (Had a great Skype chat with my sis halfway through :)

Will grab a snack as I head back to my room, for a good sleep before waking up at 5am tomorrow for my first day of volunteering. Wish me luck!