slow show for you

Hello.
no excuses... it is true. I should have updated a few days ago, but I didn't. I will give as much as I can now and then I will return to add some pictures. It is not as though I live in a remote shack with no easy way to find internet; I just often sit down and begin to type feeling like I can do no experience here justice. What I am saying is that upon my safe arrival home in a couple months you will have to take me for tea or eggs and then I can tell all the juicy stories.

Let me tell you it is hot. I am not allowed complain, thats impolite, but I am just acknowledging the fact. I think I can say that last Wednesday was the hottest day of my life so far. The heat here is measured in celius, these days it sits in the 40's. Then 5 or so degrees are added for what is called the "measure of discomfort". I think that means humidity. Sweat is everywhere, but I am not complaining.

On Saturday we went to the Book Bajaar with sister. Imagine my dream stroll. You should be picturing a long long road that is packed on either side with little shops selling used books. All this affordable literature is really starting to pile up on my window sill. It was such a fun day though, a girl after my own heart and weakness, sister was a great help when trying to get a good deal on books. I heard that there is a tiny little nook of a tea house that I missed. It has an ancient reputation for hosting heated debates and mind battles of local college students and memorable philosophers alike.

I am still spending as much time as I can at Kalighat. People are getting sick, new people are coming, and I am getting more attached and woven with the people every day.
I have done a couple of visits into the red light district here. Pretty close to what I expected it would be, I am enjoying the struggle of relationship with these women as I expected I would. It so clearly means entering into friendship for joy and struggle. The time is full of laughing and chatting with beautiful girls, lots of chai and food, and feeling a great bond. Lots to share and lots to process about those visits.

I am so fortunate. Lovely girls Jen and Jenna have ventured across the pond and they are spending a couple of weeks in Kolkata. It is so so good to see them, just a little taste of a place called home. I enjoy eating breakfast with them when I can, I really miss that part of my life at home.

The election is coming here. For all of India it takes a couple of months for everyone to vote; the stations go into every village and hill of people. Its really complicated, and not always talked about, but its going to be a big deal. I am learning as much as I can about it, from my understanding there could be a major shift in history and power of this state in the next month or so. It is interesting to be around; there are lots of rallies and flags and mega posters. There is one that Obama's face melted into a candle with a local leader. They really love him here, an automatic connection seems to be made between him and Ghandi.

I must dash, I will gather some photos to share soon.
thanks so much for reading
loves from way yonder


every thought, a thought of you.
a light within my brother's eyes
every look in search of you

the province of the brave

Hello, and "Shubho Nababarso!"- Today is Bengali New Year.
Maybe I will start you with a couple of photos:


Goodmorning Santospur. This one was taken really early; I love when I get to walk in Kolkata when it is too early to be loud, but not too early for the bustle to begin.


And here is my view as I approach the front steps of Kalighat. A beautfiul building it is.

I should tell you that I love Kolkata. I think I only truly love it because there are so many days that I hate it. I feel myself making a niche here as it is called; and I think just as soon as the niche is so perfectly molded to me, it will be time to pack up and leave.

I should explain that one time last week I got really irrationally upset at a taxi driver. I treated him as though he was every Indian man who had ever done something to irk me. Unfair. He charged us bedeshi girls too much for a taxi ride that we didn't want to take that came at the end of a very misfortunate 3hr transit home to the village.

I should also explain that it feels like the sisters at Kalighat are getting used to having us around and they have started to rely on us a bit. The slight closeness I feel with them is so rewarding and it is lovely just watching the way they work and find their space at Kalighat. Some of the ladies that live at Kalighat too, I think feel our presence is there. I don't know how much stabilty is in their lives as they lay on their beds; we are hoping to be a bit of that for them.

Also though, Kalighat sometimes seems impossible. A small house that is right in the middle of a busy, loud, overcrowded, token endowed road. Inside the house at Kalighat can become shocking and hard to look at, and gross to deal with. I think it has to be like that sometimes.

But I really can't forget, that I probably live with the best Indian family. It may take me a long time to get back to them at night, but I can wind down during the commute, and arrive home to an astonishingly delicious home-cooked meal. I can sit on the floor with my sisters and laugh about all that we've lost.

Same pattern feeling for the past handful of days. Karissa asked me a question this morning that summed it up a little bit. She asked me if I ever feel like I could just burst in this place. I answered, "of course".

thanks for reading,
all my love from way over yonder,

grant me singleness of purpose,
and some strength to lift a part of the burden,

wide eyes

Good day,
I've got a few pictures to show you.

These first two are from the roof of Kalighat. I think the sun is about to take it's trip down.




And this one, for my Dad, is a beautiful Indian named motorcycle. I finally spotted this one.


bye for now,

these days, a little bit stronger than the last

Good day,

I am writing you here, Saturday for me, and it is getting hot. I can feel the harsh times coming. I am up to about 4 litres of water a day and a pretty wimpy apetite as I move throughout the city.
By the time I get back to the house though, I begin to anticipate the meal to come. I can hear Ma bustling in the kitchen, sometimes in the dark due to a power out, and I start to feel hungry. These days I am craving her food which is such a lovely feeling. I am always looking forward to the roti piece, the mound of bhat, and the aloo mix. The latest addition to any plate I eat has been an oinon. Whether its a snack or a big meal from Ma, I crave the punch and crunch of a raw onion. These days a strange desire for an onion or a cocnut just cracked and sold from a wrinkly lady on the street are most common.

This week again felt more like I have a place, and a home in Kolkata. Out of neccessity perhaps I am feeling more comfortable as I move about the city and back out to the village. In Kalighat I still don't know everything, but I know what I can do. I am getting close with a few particular women who stay at Kalighat, I am not sure if thats the best idea. For some reason this week was full of laughter at Kalighat. The women love to mock my bedeshi ways, and I love to hear them crack up. My Bengali language is coming along slowly... I increase by a few words a day. I feel like the sisters/didis that work at Kalighat are getting used to having me around. The one sister is always keeping me busy, and once and a while she will offer me an ounce, only a pinch, of affirmation. I think she knows it's what I live for. This week as I was throwing on my dupata scarf to leave Kalighat she studied me for a couple for minutes. I was standing nervously, anticiapting a commment about my uncombed hair or my saggy pants, but after some silence she said "You look Indian. You are wearing a dupata and you look like an India woman". I can tell you that just filled me with joy. I think I have a lot to learn from the sisters. I think this week I will hang around to be with them after we do the afternoon shift.

This coming week brings more new adventures. I am doing my first visit into the red light district. Also, we have visitors from Nepal. Also, as much time as my feet and sweaty face can allow me at Kalighat.

All my love, and a few resignating words I have been humming this week. The Cold War Kids sing this one,
"I've got one friend laying accross from me; I did not choose him, he did not choose me. We've got not chance of recovery, joy and hospital, joy and misery"....It reminds me of the ladies (and men) at Kalighat sometimes. Lots of joy, misery as well, but all in it next to eachother.