beauty.

The job I look forward to least: laundry.

Before coming to India, I had never really handwashed my clothes. I have always been fortunate to have a washing machine close at hand where I can easily drop my laundry in, throw some detergent in, and wait for it to be washed and then dried. 

Every morning after arriving at Shanti Dan, we don our aprons and head to this open room behind the dormitory. There you can find three large cement tubs filled with soapy water and an array of colors floating through the small current that is caused by the throwing of clothes from one tub to the next. After rinsing, we wring out each piece before placing it into a bucket that will be taken up the three flights of stairs to the roof. Once I reach the tops of those three flights of stairs my spirits begin to dampen. 

If you asked Marlyn, Andie, or I about the laundry hanging system at Shanti Dan, you would find yourself stuck in a conversation with us puzzled about how it makes sense. The Massis (the women who work at the Mother Teresa Houses, cleaning, cooking, and caring) have a very specific way of doing it. I'm talking VERY specific. Certain things can only go on certain lines, elastic waists have to hang a certain direction, and the sheets can only go on certain fences. Not only is this map of laundry difficult for us to memorize, but we can't speak Bengali. So imagine it. The sun is beating down on us, the humidity makes it feel like we're walking through soup, and the Massis are trying to communicate with us to tell us where things go while we're clueless. It's easy to get frustrated. 

 It dawned on me today, as I was hanging a sheet on the third line to the left on the fourth pole from the door, the experience is like much of our time in Kolkata. It's hot, sweaty, and at times frustrating, but in the end it's rewarding and beautiful. Many of us have been struggling with the stares, constant honking and deep poverty to the challenges faced in our Houses. Personally I struggle with how to interact with and help the girls who are severely handicapped. But in the end, it's just like hanging laundry, we have to trust the process and find beauty in the connections. While hanging laundry today, there was a moment where I found pure beauty. I had just hung a pink small sheet and maybe it's the way the sun hit it, but that pink sheet was bright and it was beautiful. I imagined how it would dry and eventually be used again for the bedding of one of the girls as she sleeps.  

I'm only here for three weeks and the Massis will continue washing that pink sheet long after I go. It's beautiful tho think their hardwork will continue to care and support these girls. 

   

Today during lunch, I had the opportunity to feed Sharmila. She is wheelchair bound and does not communicate nor make eye contact with anyone. Since many of the girls have similar situations, I find myself rubbing their shoulders or humming a song to communicate and show my affection towards them. While feeding her the rice and potato mix with the delicious aroma filling the room, Sharmila all of a sudden started laughing. Full-on grinning and laughing. I'm not sure if it was her way of acknowledging my poor attempts of Bengali or if she was showing her excitement for the next delicious bite, but I like to think that that moment was the start of our friendship. Her laugh is sweet. It's warm. And it's rare. 

Namaste,

Steph