Brothers at Nabo Jibon and Howrah Station

The past few days I've really been appreciating the chances I've had to interact with the brothers at Nabo Jibon. Several times this week I've chosen to stay later than usual just because it is a peaceful place to read, pray, journal, etc. As a result of being there later, I've gotten into more conversations with the brothers. On Wednesday I stayed late enough to join them for a short afternoon prayer meeting. I don't know why it has taken me until now to start appreciating the community they have there, but it really is pretty amazing. (Ethan, I'm beginning to see how amazing life must be for you right now.)

This morning I made a point of getting there earlier than usual. I was aiming to get there by 8am at the latest. Usually I get there between 8:30 and 8:45. I ended up arriving at 7:15am, both because I gave myself a safety margin and because there was less traffic so the busses could drive faster. Those 45 minutes allowed me to catch the last 5 minutes of their morning mass, as well as enjoy breakfast (second breakfast for me) with them.

It was not, however, for mass or second breakfast that I showed up early. This morning I got to go along with two of the brothers in training to Howrah Station, a large train station just outside of Kolkata. The brothers go there every Saturday to look for men that need medical help. I don't know why there are so many people just living on the platforms at the train station, but they are there, and many of them aren't doing well. Each of the brothers carried a small medical kit as we walked up and down each of the platforms looking for those in need. Those with minor wounds are dealt with on the spot. Men with serious wounds or that are very ill are taken back to Nabo Jibon in an ambulance for the brothers to care for until they are better or until they pass away. Particularly during the hot months of May and June the beds at Nabo Jibon are usually full. This means that there is only room to bring back the most serious cases. Fortunately we didn't have to make any decisions like that today.

We (and I use "we" loosely because really it was mostly the brothers) cleaned and dressed the wounds of several men that we found. We found a boy with an infected wound on the palm of his hand. The brother I was with at the time cleaned the outside of the wound, then had to cut it open to drain the puss out of it. As it turned out, there was some small object (I'm not sure what) that was lodged at the center of the wound. The boy cringed and even cried a little as the brother got it out. When he was done with that boy, he attended to another boy in the group (there were four total). During this whole process, a third boy kept asking me to by him a treat. The brother told me quite not to buy them anything, because then they wouldn't leave us alone to the work we came for.

Sometime in the middle, we ran across a man sitting against a pole under an overhang. It didn't look to me like anything was wrong physically, and he made no attempt to attract our attention. I don't know why, but the brother decided to stop and talk with him. I couldn't understand the conversation, but it was clear that something wasn't well in this man's life. He began to weep, and a little later I held his hand, not sure what else I could do. We gave him a few of the bananas we were carrying, and walked on. Somewhat while we were still there, and somewhat as we walked away the brother explained the situation to me. Apparently this man is stranded in Kolkata, away from whichever part of India he is from. He doesn't have anything here, nor does he know anyone. I have no idea how this occurred, and I can only imagine the fear, loneliness, and perhaps abandonment he must feel. The brother clearly felt for the man, but could not provide him a bed at Nabo Jibon, nor a ticket home. I found out later that a ticket for him would cost around 200 rupees (less than five US dollars). As we went on, I kept thinking back to that man. I had the money on me, and decided that I should have given it to the man. There is little doubt in my mind that his story was genuine, and an almost inconsequentially small sacrifice from me could have been a life changing difference for him. I thought about asking the brother if we could go back, but I didn't. I thought about going back to the train station by myself later and trying to find him, but I have not. I doubt I would be able to find him. I don't have a clear memory of what he looked like, nor do I remember which platform he was on. I wish I was better at taking initiative in the moment, rather than thinking about what I should have done in retrospect. Why is my initiative so small?

In addition to the significant experience of going, I had a great time talking with the two brothers. We talked about how things were different today because I was along. Apparently in a train station with thousands and thousands of Indians, a lone white guys draws a lot of attention. They said that they were approached by beggars much more than they usually are. Then we talked about some issues regarding beggars in Kolkata. It was a great experience, and I was invited to go along for a similar trip on Wednesday, when two different brothers search through one of the nearby slums. Assuming I can get myself up out of bed in time, I plan to go along.