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This focuses on issues affecting the underprivileged in India.

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Here is an amazing video created by our own Colin-Pierre Larnerd. 

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Beloved Community Blog- Entry 13

I am back to Binghamton, but have blog entries yet to post.   Before I could do this in Kolkata, during the last full week there, an electrical surge completely ruined my Lenovo computer.  I tried to work on Jorden's computer but he was overwhelmed with work of his own, missing the first few weeks of his semester at Binghamton University's School of Community and Public Policy.  

I will be completing & posting the next Kolkata blog posts over the next week or so.  But I am thrilled to report that the Beloved Community with the Calcutta Children's Project continues on.  Only God could send three utter saints to be our Project-keepers in Kolkata.   I am convinced that we could not have found even one Christopher, Sumit, or Tamal, if we had searched every inch of India.     The group of cousins and friends have taken on the four boys.  In numerous conversations with them, back and forth, they have committed to raising the funds, themselves, to send the boys for formal English classes; driver licences for one or two of them to support their ambition to drive a taxi; and plans they all have together to start a clothing kiosk with necessary preparations.  They want to support themselves and whatever family members they have among them.

Max is very drawn to the work Sumit and Tamal are doing at the Big City dump, educating age-related groups toward national exams which will occur for present classes in two years.  These exams that all kids in India take at a certain age are determinative of further education and training.   Though a first-year college student with loans and a part-time job, Max has committed himself to raising the monthly $45. rent for the school room in which Sumit and Tamal teach the classes free of charge three nights a week.  [this is a correction from an earlier post]   (see pictures below of the 4 boys, and our visit to the Big City Dump).  

With the Calcutta Children's Project in the Village, there are now 85 students who want to go to school, up from  55.   Again, all of Sumit and Tamal's work - visiting the Village by train with supplies, study materials, and other required items is given, as was Christopher's, without charge.   They have worked out a system for notating each child's attendance at school.   When Sumit and Tamal visit the Village, an older student whom I'll call L, calls each child by name, checks off his or her name on the list of attendees, and gives each a little gift.  When the gift is received the child makes a thumb print next to his or her name.  When we arrived by car for our first visit, L and a few other students were walking to school.  When I saw what a help she was to Sumit, I thought of the success of her schooling throughout these years.  

"What does she want to become?" I asked Sumit. "Something in the health services," he answered.  

With the Sree Durga dump closing and the Project now centrally located in the Village of Mathurapur, I've asked Sumit to figure the exact cost for each child to go to school.

The amount is still $50.00 a year (ten-months) for each child.  This includes: tuition/uniform/sandals/study materials/book bag/medicated soap/breakfast/small extras.    

The Project has also provided mosquito nets and emergency items (like the rain coats and gear a number of months ago, during the monsoon).   We have also provided emergency medical care, (for both children and adults seriously sick with malaria).

We've greatly appreciated contributions that have kept the Project going for almost 10 years.  Now that I've  left Marist, and am a poorer churchmouse, I'll need more help in keeping the the kids in school.  I have no talent for fundraisinig, but just know that if anyone feels led to contribute to the Project*, it would be welcome.

Colin, Max, and Jorden took a picture of each of the Village children:  a few are posted below (will post more on the next few blogs).  

I have just learned that Colin & Heru did a "Go Fund Me" on their own initiative for the four boys, and have raised enough funds to enroll them in formal English lessons and to pursue the taxi licenses.  They plan to go back to Kolkata (on their own dime) in May to work with the boys, and distribute the funds.   They will also visit the Village with Sumit and Tamal, and share their experiences for a  Kolkata blog post. I intend to continue the Kolkata blog as long as anyone is interested in reading it.  I love hearing from you, and so appreciate your responses.  I also welcome questions and ideas.  

*For an IRS tax credit, a check can be made out to the International Philosophers for Peace with Calcutta Children's Project written on the subject line, and the envelope addressed to IPP % of Mar Peter-Raoul/PO Box 883, Binghamton, NY 13902 (see UPDATE attachment).

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More from the village, along with one of our group meetings and Jory connecting with one of the local children who sells balloons outside the YWCA.

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Beloved Community Blog - Entry 12

More on village, and Ramsaday College, I am sitting in the lobby and Mr. Sarkar, Basedes’ 12 hour alternate, comes over and sits with me. For a while, he watches me write, and says, “We’re born, we live, and then we die. What’s the point?” He repeats the same question as I book up at him and listen. “What do you think, Mr. Sarkar? Ï don’t know, you tell me.” “I ponder not so much his question, but the fact that he, a low-paid worker, working 12 hour days, 7 days a week, is asking, earnestly, essentially, the meaning of life. Viktor Frankl, Vienese psychotherapist, imprisoned by the Nazis, wrote in his iconic text, Man’s Search for Meanng, that the meaning of life is the essential question of all humanity. Ï’ll have to ask Max to have a conversation with you. He loves philosophical questions,” I offer. “Yes, yes,"he smiles, pleased at the prospect of a philosophical conversation with Max. I want to hear more about yesterday’s visit to the village. My room off the lobby has become a kind of headquarters. Everyone stops by at some point or another when I am in the room. I tend to hole up there if I am trying to write. I love their stopping by, as I am getting to see and talk with each one rather frequently. Tom comes by early in the morning and brings breakfast. My favorite "stop-by” is around 3 a.m. when Jory gets up and comes to the room to write to his wife Karen who in New York time is just getting home from teaching school. When the kids drop by, I ask each one about the boy getting the chair; if he was happy? I was sorry to miss being there, but I see the pictures of his laughing. There is one picture with three thank-you notes to those who contributed to purchasing the chair, in addition to the troop’s contribution, itself. Today we are visiting Ramsaday College, an extension of the University of Calcutta, about 2-3 hours away. Sumit has a special connection with the College and tells us that we are invited by the music department - that they are interested in our village project and would like to find someway to take music to the village. I love the idea - I remember seeing on the Heroes series on CNN a few times when someone provided instruments in a favela or to some other deprived group of children, and made music happen. Sumit has ordered another many-seater van for our group of 14 with the 4 boys who live outside the Y (accompanying us everywhere). When the van arrives, a vinyl sign is spread across the front hood sporting Cameron ’s Beloved Community logo, and lettering that identifys the Beloved Community. Traveling to the College, we practice our Beloved Community theme song along with all the verses of We Shall Overcome. Sumit expresses the idea that the College would feel honored if we also sang their National Anthem. We convince him, however, that such a feat is hopelessly beyond our capacity. Arriving, we are greeted with students and faculty lining the walkway as we make our way to the building. To my dismay, the small theatre of the music department is on the third floor - up three flights. I hesitate and a few of the male students start to improvise a chair. As fast as I can, I assure them that I can make it with my stick and the railing. If I wasn’t so adverse to exercise, I would probably spring up the stairs by now. It’s been nearly a year since my hip replacement. At the top of the stairs, as we walk toward the theatre, we find ourselves celebrated, students dropping rose petals on our heads and each of us receiving wrapped roses, a small plaque commemorating our visit, and a program prepared for us. What talent in this small college - the singing, instruments, and, surprisingly, a message of music theory that joins head and heart. After enjoying the program, we are invited as a group to come up onto the stage. I am to give the audience an idea of the meaning of the Beloved Community, and the whole group is to sing. “The Beloved Community is made up of all those of good will,” I start, “who work for social justice, equality, and the well-being of everyone. It was articulated by Dr. Martin Luther King as the goal of the Civil Rights movement in the United States - to create among us and in the world, a community that is fair, loving, inclusive, just in all its ways, and works for the common good.” As I finish, I stand back among the group. We are next to sing the Beloved Community theme song. Fortunately, Heather steps out and addresses the people, “Please don’t think that we are professionals, as you are. We just want to share our Calcutta Children’s Project with you and have fun singing. But we are amateurs, and sing for fun.” I can only imagine if they had had an idea that we were a professional singing group, and then we started singing, that it would be all they could do to suppress insuppressable laughter. Tom plays his ukulele (Tom is a professional, though he disclaims such), and we sing the theme song and invite everyone to sing with us, We Shall Overcome. Sumit looks pleased. The announcer talks about the phenomenon of dance, and with Indian instruments playing, invites our group to fill the space between our first rows and the platform with dancing. I am sure an odd look falls across all our faces at the thought of getting up and performing dance. But Gabie, with Caleb right beside her, lifts from her seat, with grace and movement and begins dancing. Cameron follows, and one by one, each joins the others. The audience clapps and calls out with cheers. Many gather around the dancers and around me, still rooted in my chair. To the calls to dance, I finally stand up and move a lilttle toward the dancers, & tap my stick up and down to the music. Clapping and calling out, Ramsaday students and faculty pour out their approval. When the program finishes, we are surrounded with crowds of students as they escort us out. The star of the day turns out to be Krista. The fellows of Ramsaday are convinced that she is a movie star, and all want a picture taken with her. I am escorted by women faculty, one of whom wants to know all about the village project, and who is the driving idea behind wanting to take music to the village. Ï love the idea,“ I tell her. Others are pressing into me, so I can’t talk further about it, but Sumit will follow through. I must mention that all along, from our first considering a visit to the College, Sumit said that he had a surprise for me. I met the surprise on the walkway when we first arrived - his wife, a visiting scholar at the College while finishing her Ph.D.

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Beloved Community Blog – Entry 11

Though the cadre of 12 arrived together, they depart in multiple groups: Jory, Krista, and Cameron on January 7th; Heather, Tom, Maddy, Jacob, & Heru on January 14th; Caleb & Gabie on the 16th; and originally Jorden, Max, Colin, & me on January 21st. It turned out that Max & Colin departed on the 21st, while Jorden & I ended up staying an extra week jumping through plenty of bureaucratic hoops and also tying up some loose strings among our projects. On the day after visiting Mother Teresa’s House, House of the Dying, and the Kalighat Temple, everyone but me made the train ride for a second visit to the village. We had conversed about the young disabled boy and almost unanimously decided to get him a wheel-chair. Sumit priced them and found a red plaid, boyish-looking chair that we thought he would like. It folded together, and was easy to carry. Contributions from the group went $160.00 over the $170. cost of the chair. Since all the money had to be donated to the boy’s family, we talked about what to do with the extra. We didn’t quite come to a consensus, but, basically most agreed with Heather’s proposal to get him evaluated by a therapist and see if any improvement could be made in his feeding himself or handling other bodily functions, even talking, or signing. Someone pointed out that the $160. would not go very far in paying for therapy. Sumit is going to look into finding a therapist to evaluate the boy’s possibilities. At first some thought that for the money, more people could be helped on the street. But a few regarded the boy’s improvement as lasting a life-time, and at least those on the street could see, hear, talk, and walk. The train was so crowded that only one person got to sit down. The team had met after one of our meetings, and packed bags to distribute – by age, crayons, paper, coloring books, little musical instruments, things for girls, things for boys, and so with the Chair, had a lot to carry. At the village, so many crowded around them that they ended up having to bring back many of the bags to distribute later. I remember on Tom & Heather’s first trip that the train was not so crowded. At that time, Heather got everyone singing the Hokey Pokey, even walking and singing through the aisles. Alanna, my beloved assistant at Marist at that time, was with us. During his first time here, Tom took his mandolin outside of the Y, and helped a girl play it. A few others crowded around and he helped them to play a bit, as well. This trip he mostly played his ukulele. Gabie, a musician, herself, also played it. Colin came in one day, and said, “Heru is teaching English to little kids on the Y steps.” He had looked through a number of book stores to find one for teaching English to young kids. In Brooklyn, he teaches small children with special needs – and they love him. At a meeting, I shared the founding Scripture of the Beloved Community – Isaiah 61. We just read the first two verses: “The spirit of the LORD God is upon me;because the LORD has anointed me to preach good tiding unto the meek; He has sent me to bind up the brokenhearted, to proclaim liberty to the captives, and the opening of the prison to those who are bound; 2 To proclaim the acceptable year of the LORD, and the day of vengeance [rescue] of our God; to comfort all who mourn.”

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More Photos coming soon

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The Beloved Community Blog – Entry 10

For a long time, I’ve heard of Mother Teresa’s Home for the Dying.  It is into the thousands and thousands that she and her sisters have picked up those they find lying sick or prostrate in the streets.  Sometimes when brought to the Home and cared for, those near death recover.  During the first week of our folks arriving, Christopher, Sumit, and Tamal all took us in a caravan of cabs to Mother’s House. The House houses treasures of Mother Teresa – audio tapes, folders of artifacts – letters & newspaper articles.

We took our shoes off before walking around the carefully presented materials, first entering the well-lit burial room of Mother. Around the raised coffin sisters and others were kneeling in prayer.  This is where Christopher comes when beseeching help from his saint which seems always granted.  Educated by the Sisters at a Boarding School, he went on to work with the Sisters and with Mother Teresa, herself, and continues to feel very close to her.

From the House, we headed in taxis a short distance to the Kalighat Temple and the House of the Dying.  At the Home, I was able to sit on a raised platform just inside the door.  Across the aisle, directly ahead, were two rows of well made-up beds against opposite walls.  I wondered why no one was in the beds, with only one or two sitting on the edge of theirs.  It turned out that those here on the first floor were well enough to eat with the others. When Heather came into where I was sitting, we could see to the right of us a doorway where inside food was being served.

“I want to help”, she told me and left.  I didn’t see her until later – after everyone had been served.

Across from me on the right, against the wall, was a stairway that led up to another floor of beds. This is where the very sick and those dying were cared for.  I don’t know how things were arranged and the privacy of the sick protected, but given the care I witnessed, I expect all was arranged with considerable respect.

Our group returned from upstairs, sober and quite quiet Christopher mostly stayed with me and I learned for the first time that he had worked here for more than six months.  He spoke to some of the sisters as they walked near us.  

When we left, we walked down a main alley to the temple and its wide courtyard.  I sat on a ledge outside the temple to watch the people.  There were four dogs comfortably sleeping near one another – all near a small group of people who seemed to be camping in the courtyard.  As our folks emerged from the temple, I noticed an old man huddled in a corner on a ledge working a cell phone.

The courtyard was very busy with colorfully-dressed people, kiosks, visiting pilgrims, and those camping, children playing, and the dogs.

As we took a couple of group pictures and crossed a narrow street outside, I was offered by someone handing them out a white circular sweet that looked like a Roman Catholic host.  I loved the taste and wanted to take some with me but we were surrounded by crowds, many of them begging, as Max tried to round up four taxis.  Two days later, Sumit made his way back through the crowded bustle to surprise me with a bag of the sweets.

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