Namaste! To all friends, family and strangers reading this blog, welcome. My name is James Ikeguchi (that’s me in the picture) and I am so excited to share with you a special part of my incredibly unique experience in India up to now.
I mentally prepared for service aspect of our immersion very much looking forward to serving in Nirmal Hriday (Home for the Dying) in Kalighat. I was aware of some of the hard things I would experience, but I welcomed the challenge and left nothing to regret as I gave this past week my all. Reading about Mother Teresa’s vision as well as volunteer recounts for this home and the work required could not do the first-hand experience justice. Without the work of the wonderful sisters and assistance of volunteers, there is absolutely no doubt that these men and women would suffer and perish in the streets.
I made sure to lend a hand to all jobs in the home, and they all varied in intensity and how hard they were on the soul. The day would start out with laundry, hanging, and drying, but then we would move on to caring for the men and women in ways they needed personally. For example, there were dying elderly men, as well as destitute younger men with severe mental and physical disabilities, who required aid as they walked around the bed area to keep muscles and joints loose. My work in this regard was very distinct: there was a young adult who could not speak fluently, look straight, or walk without a limp. I would hold his hand for balance as we circled the bed area, but after one round, he wanted to rest. This could not be allowed as one round was not enough according to sister Evangelista, so I had to force him to keep walking. It got to the point where I was restraining him from returning to his seat, and he began screaming at me, spitting, and hitting me, and some of the other men began hitting him back out of their own frustrations. The sister eventually restored order, but this was one of the toughest jobs I performed in the moment. Volunteers also had to sometimes hand feed those who could not hold a spoon or focus their gaze on a plate, so I took the initiative in feeding one of the oldest men in the home. This man was frail beyond belief. He looked to weigh around 90 lbs, and I had to pick him up just so I could feed him. Staring directly at me, he could barely chew or swallow and was choking on single grains of rice. I was constantly nervous that he would choke to the point of requiring a Heimlich maneuver or even dying because I did not feed him correctly. I eventually found my niche assisting the doctor in his minor surgeries on patients with wounds I have never seen for myself. One man had broken his left hip and remained in the same spot for over 30 days before a sister found him and brought him to Kalighat. Another was missing the front half of his foot, and I had to lay my body completely over him perpendicular to the operating table just to keep him steady enough for the doctor to cut away rotting flesh in between the stubs of his metatarsals and to apply a disinfectant and gauze because they did not use anesthetics.
Today was a 12 hour travel day from the craziness of Kolkata to Agra to see the magnificent Taj Mahal and Agra Fort. As I endure the 104 degree heat on this long and smelly train ride, I am reflecting deeply on my the meaning of my time at Kalighat on my life moving forward. The work was mentally and physically exhausting, but endlessly rewarding. I am so proud knowing that I contributed positive work to such an important cause with people who devote their lives to the lives of others. Naturally, I wish I could do more for the people at Nirmal Hriday; I wish I could restore their youth and functionality even on a worldwide scale, not only in Kalighat. Considering this frustration, it has been important for me to ground myself in Mother Teresa’s words, which were to: “be faithful in small things because it is in them that your strength lies.” I might not miss seeing the pain that these beautiful men and women endure everyday, but I already miss the relationships I formed with the dying, destitute and other volunteers. Moving on is a bittersweet feeling, and I aspire to return to Kolkata someday to pick back up where I started. Goodbye for now, Kolkata.
P.S. Special thanks to Mom, Dad, David, and my Grandparents for the support in making it to India. Also, I would like to extend a huge thanks to the University of Portland and the Moreau Center for the opportunity. I owe this experience to you all in full, and I look forward to the day when I can reciprocate. Thank you so so much!
Signing out,
James Ikeguchi