Greetings from Calcutta! I have been given the lofty task of describing my experience here. Honestly, I know that I will probably fail at fully expressing all of the emotions I have pertaining to this amazing place, but I will try my best.
I want to start off by saying that Calcutta was the reason that I chose this program. Yes, I was excited for many other aspects of the trip, but I have never felt so called to do something as I felt when I first read about the Mother Teresa Home of the Destitute. The thought of helping someone feel loved in the last moments of their life seemed like the most beautiful act that I could do for another being. I had this inherent knowing in my heart that God wanted me to go to the Motherhouse. So, my poor mother (who I know still wishes I just went to Central America instead) had to listen to me argue every reason why she should let me go to India for eight (yes, you read right, eight) months. Even though she played every card in her repertoire, I wouldn’t budge. I have never been so stubborn in my life.
So mom, I know you hate losing an argument more than I do, but believe me when I say that your surrender of this battle has made the hugest difference in my life.
For a very long time, I have been extremely self-critical. I judge my actions very harshly, so in turn, I think that others must be doing the same. When I’m around anyone, I almost always have some degree of a façade to keep myself seeming less flawed. I’ve kept this face on nearly everyday for the past six years. But this past week, I was able to drop the image for the first time in a really long time.
When I was working with the men in the Home of the Dying, Nirmal Hriday, they didn’t need me to give them a great first impression. All they needed from me was my friendship. I was good enough while just being myself. I felt this comfort around the patients, the nuns, and the other volunteers — but I especially felt it around Iqbal.
Iqbal is a man in his forties who is mentally handicapped. He has the kindest smile, funniest laugh, and the most welcoming demeanor. When I first met Iqbal, I immediately thought of my cousin, John David. No matter what I was going through in my life, John has always been the one person I have felt the most comfortable being myself around. He is my best friend. Iqbal and John share a lot of the same personality traits, so I was immediately drawn to Iqbal. Halfway through the first day of volunteering, Iqbal grabbed my hand as I walked by and put it on his shoulder to let me know that he wanted a massage. We spent the next thirty minutes laughing and joking together, and we probably would’ve continued to do so for the rest of the day if the nuns would have let us.
Over the next four days, Iqbal and I became buds. I would go into the house every day and immediately look for him. And every day he would be there, smiling and chuckling at me. I felt so comfortable being goofy, happy, and vulnerable with him. It wasn’t until I said goodbye to him though that I began to comprehend what this friendship had brought up in me. Iqbal and the rest of the patients at Hirmal Nriday helped me be more authentic. I was being the truest version of Jordan, and I felt amazing. So, I noticed that while God sent me here to serve others, He also sent me here as a service to myself.
As for Calcutta, I was so sad to say goodbye. But I know I’ll be back soon. The Mother Teresa Home is undoubtedly one of the most beautiful and inspiring places in the world, and I’m so happy I was able to experience it.
Until Next Time,
Jordan