A Different World

On Eli's last day (last Thursday), we visited the Leper colony with a group of volunteers from the Missionaries of Charity. The warmth and joy we encountered, among what are some of the most rejected people on Earth, was astounding. Simply shaking their withered hands, or offering them a "Namaste" and a smile brought such wonderful reponses. In a traditional Indian greeting, Eli touched a man's wounded feet and brought his hand to his forehead out of respect. Immediately the man exclaimed, "OH BABUUU!!!", and a string of phrases essentially telling us he was unworthy of such respect. He grabbed Eli's arm and blessed us with his massive smile. This was a beautiful moment. If anyone is worthy of such respect, that man is.

I went to a different Kolkata on the weekend. An old friend of my Aunt is an Indian man named Ratul. I will spare you the ridiculous story of how I got connected to him, but I phoned him up on Saturday and he invited me out on Sunday. I had no idea what I was in for. I was welcomed into his home like I was family, invited to stay the night, and experienced a wild night out with my new friend. We went to "Shisha," which is basically the most glamourous night club in the city. As the title may have hinted, it was a different world to the Kolkata that I know. It was a "quiet" night at the club, as it was a Sunday; however, there was a party sponsored by one of Kolkata's biggest newspaper's, and only the coolest people were invited. I was the lone tall, bearded, white guy, dressed in sneakers and jeans (which is pretty dressed up for me these days!), in a crowd of India's top fashion designers, Bollywood writers, journalists, and even the CEO of the championship winning Cricket Team. It was ridiculous. I wouldn't have a clue what to do in that sort of a crowd in Canada, let alone in India. Indian men to begin with are far more stylish than I will ever be. This crowd made me feel like a newborn pidgeon in a peacock's nest.

But Ratul warmly showed me around, introducing me to everyone, and encouraging me to drink and eat whatever I wanted, as it was all on the house! I have to admit, that part of the evening is probably what thrilled me the most. They had hummous! Real hummous. (And a million other fantastic foods). And who is going to turn down free beer? Even if you are Tim Martin, that's just a plain old good deal. I also figured it couldn't make me feel any less awkward, right?

This kind of a party would be a shock to my system in everyday life. But coming from an average day spent with handicapped orphans, street children, and cheap backpackers, I cannot communicate how this felt. I'm sorry. I wish I could.