Sittin', Waitin', Wishin'

I don't have any exciting travel updates to share today, as the gang decided to stay in Kolkata this weekend. Today Anjali and I went to a nearby spa for super-cheap facials (my skin feels amazing!) and we're going to dinner at a Mexican restaurant later. Indian interpretations of Western dishes never fail to surprise :)

I've had ample time to think and read and pray here in India. It's been a really, really good trip for the soul. I feel awakened to some universal truths that are hard to realize when your nose is to the grindstone and you're only anticipating the next deadline... I've had a lot of time to consider what it means to be a stranger in a strange land, as every time I step outside the door I am reminded how far I am from home and every time I speak others struggle to understand. I just finished reading Interpreter of Maladies, which is a book about Indian-Americans by Jhumpa Lahiri. A-m-a-z-i-n-g book, it's so hard to believe that it was her first novel! The collection of short stories are all about bridging the isolation between people and generations and nations...how sometimes it is impossible, and how sometimes it's the only thing that saves us. Language is a huge barrier, and even though many people speak English my American accent might as well be gibberish. I tend to try to overcome the isolation with a smile, wild hand gestures, a few broken Bengali phrases; yet I struggle to find culturally appropriate responses to social situations (I always seem to fail). I have been thrilled with the responses of my tiny efforts to bridge this cultural and relational divide with Bengali women...they are so beautiful and modest in their saris, and many rarely leave home. I must be like a flamingo walking down the street to them, with my hair flowing and my legs exposed, but when I smile they ever-so-timidly turn up the corners of their lips, eyes still wide at my awkwardly foreign prescence. The best, the thing that really makes my day, is when they walk past, but turn their heads and really grin over their shoulders. Bengali men just STARE, and I've even had a few pictures taken of me on cell-phone cameras. When I notice, I whip out my camera and take one right back. Probably not culturally appropriate of me, but I'm a bit put out and they're usually quite embarassed.

The other thing I've been contemplating heavily is the true meaning of service. I had serious food for thought yesterday when we went to visit a professor who had conducted a third-party study of the microfinance program of the NGO with which I'm working. As it turns out, he was a close associate of Mother Teresa from his days as a student in 1964 until her death in 1997. He was, obviously, a very interesting person and quoted Mother Teresa as saying that service is not true service until it hurts you. Until you forgo a meal and experience the pain of hunger, in exchange for alleviating the suffering of another, you have not truly served God or humanity. A stirring claim, and one that I will hold in my heart in the weeks to come. My belly has always been full and my needs always satisfied in every way. Yet the more time I spend in this country the more I am convinced that taking an actual or virtual vow of poverty, as a nun or NGO worker, is not my path to change the world. I am a strong believer in job creation, social enterprise, and corporate social responsibility as the next great frontier in solving poverty... If true service is painful, then giving up my American princess comforts to spend time understanding India and its people may qualify. But to truly change the world in a sustainable and lasting way, I am working my way to a solution that encompasses my personal talents and ambitions as well as alleviates the suffering of others - I'm just looking for a great idea, a whiz-bang breakthrough. The space to think and dream is really helping out. Suggestions are welcome. Love to you all...Daron