The Importance of Being an Auntie

 

Namaskaar friends and family of this Kolkata journey, 

   It has been an interesting first week in Kolkata. Upon arriving, I was instantly reminded about how much I missed everything- the spice and flower smells, the beautifully colored saris that wash over the streets, the bejeweled Indian newborns (symbols of how precious they are and a black dot in between the eyes to ward off evil spirits) and yes, to a certain extent, even the sweltering heat. I missed the Chai tea and biscuits twice a day, Blue Sky Cafe, and India's Lays Magic Masala. I missed doing service work with members of the Saint Mike's community. However, I was also reminded of the things I didn't miss- the fact that there are, at all times, at least 75% more men on the streets than women, the meat market smell that lingers until after every part, including intestines, liver, heart, and brain are sold, the abject poverty, and the guilt I feel of being a privileged white, blond hair, blue-eyed educated female. 
   It was not until I returned to Mother House and was placed in Shanti Dan, the Mother Teresa home for disabled young girls and older women that I remembered why I love this place so much, this chaotic and confusing place. To a special needs resident at Shanti Dan, you are not white nor black, brown, or blue. You are not tall, small, skinny or fat. You are simply "Auntie," a volunteer who is here to do whatever they need. You follow commands such as, "Auntie, Auntie! Laundry, laundry!," or "Auntie, Auntie! Feed, feed!" or "Auntie, Auntie! Bring to bed now." 
   That last one is my personal favorite. I wheel the girls to their respective beds. I put the bedside bar down, and, usually with the help of another volunteer, lift the girls into their beds. I love it because it is something my mother would do for me. She would lift me in my bed and put me down for a nap. She would kiss me and sing to me and I would sleep knowing she would be there when I woke up. However, for the girls of Shanti Dan, the ever changing Aunties are their mothers. They work alongside their other mothers, such as the Mashis (Indian women who are hired by the Sisters to work in the home) and they all work under the real mothers, the Sisters of Charity, who work 24/7, 365 to care for these women.
   I am looking forward to this week, getting to know the residents of Shanti Dan, learning their names, likes and dislikes, and, even, doing their laundry. It is an honor to be one of their many aunties, no matter the length of time I spend with them. 

Be well, 

Mary