Visiting Mother Teresa

For someone who isn't from India, my first thought when hearing the name Calcutta is Mother Teresa helping the multitudes of poor people. This thought has perpetuated the idea, in me and perhaps in many more naive people, that India's economy didn't improve since Mother Teresa's time. This has been proven wrong, of course; despite the millions of people who do still need development aid.

Mother Teresa's convent, the Missionaries of Charity, is located in the southern part (but felt like the financial centre) of the city now called Kolkata. Jhoanne and I got down on AJC Bose Road and entered a narrow alley; we then entered a recess in the wall and ended up at the convent.

The first floor is where Mother Teresa's tomb is found. I thought that this was the end of our pilgrimage; instead, it turned out to be the beginning of a contemplative evening (at least for me). We were met by nuns who hurried us towards the tomb because we arrived as the convent was closing its doors to visitors. At Mother Teresa's tomb, we encountered a woman who kept wiping and kissing the marble surface of the tomb. She didn't speak; maybe she was in a period of silence. Even though I'm from the Philippines, where the biggest population of Roman Catholics is in Southeast Asia, I'm not used to seeing someone so dedicated to a specific task for someone's tomb. It's as if the dead's been newly laid to rest there. It was a disturbing scene for me because Mother Teresa's been dead for 20 years already. However, who was I to ask how someone manifests his/her faith, right?

After visiting the tomb, we were encouraged to visit the vigil that was happening upstairs. Since the Motherhouse is a convent, and my experience of being in one involved collecting my sister's effects from the dormitory (only women were allowed in) at Assumption College, I was surprised to see that men were allowed to participate in the vigil. The laypersons who were also present at vigil must be volunteers; those who tended the sick and the dying along with the nuns. A few minutes in, Jhoanne and I proceeded to leave the convent because we still had to go to a dinner sponsored by Bhojohori Manna, a famous restaurant in the state of West Bengal.

On the ride back to our hotel, the Swiss Hotel Kolkata, I was digesting what I saw. I felt that the  laypersons at the convent were those who were seeking some form of catharsis or those who wanted to be part of something bigger than themselves... after all, they traveled all the way to India even if they could as easily volunteer to help the destitute in their own countries. It was here, particularly in Kolkata, where what they were looking for probably was (or felt tangible). 

It was an emotionally charged experience because it's difficult to feel unmoved after seeing poverty on the streets in this city and then these people trying to do something for the poor, particularly for the untouchables.