Yesterday I found myself walking through the streets of Kolkata with Branden. He had just had a taste of the large market here which was filled with people, stuff and animals. Like many major market areas, the center was converted into a quazi-slaughter house and that stench seeped through the "renovated" old factory and into each cubby hole vendor. I'd say we perused through the area but if you've ever been to a place like this you'll know that you'll be hounded by everyone and their grandmother (quite literally) to buy their stuff "cheap cheap!" Everyone has a story. Everyone has an angle. Everyone knows how to play a role and it works like clock work. Actually, it's about the only thing in India that seems to work so efficiently.
We walked and talked through streets and alley ways as we made our way to a chicken schwarma vendor. Along the way we discussed San Kran (sp?), the country wide water festival in Thailand and how they know how to do a holiday right. The entire country just goes crazy from young to old and it's a blast! Then we shared our disappointment in how India's version of throwing dye and going crazy for Holi (mostly Hindu holiday where everything shuts down) is quite half hearted. The dye throwing only happens at like 5am-7am every morning at least where we are.
So here we were discussing this along with travel plans north to Katmandu when a man named Michael approached us. We were about to duck into a bookstore when he asked us if he could speak with us. Now on any given day I might come in contact with 100 beggers (more?), 10 people who ask me if I want hash, 15 that like my fu-man-choo, and others that like to just stare at the foriegners…but this one man stood out.
So, we stopped and chatted with him for awhile. His Uncle Clifton hobbled over to us as well with a big ole grin and two buck teeth and a light behind his cattarack eyes. They told us a story of how they had both just moved to Kolkata in these tough times to try and find work but it's hard to find work. Michael told me that he had found a job but need an identification card with his picture on it in order to get hired as a security guard. They told us of how they didn't really have money and were living on the street. It was a similar version to a lot of stories I've heard over the years and while I looked him in the eye there was something a little different.
They told us that they would like some food and said they could wait for us as we went into the bookstore. About ten minutes later we walked out and found the two of them about a block away with big grins. We walked and talked for a few more blocks until Clifton decided to let us go on without him. He said that his hip was out of place and the doctor said that if he broke it again that it wouldn't be usable. Needless to say he was in some pain and we had reached his limit of walking in one time. Branden looked at me and then asked him if we could pray for him. He quickly accepted and allowed us to pray over him for awhile before we moved on with Michael.
Michael passed by restaraunt after restaraunt not wanting something expensive. All he wanted was some rice and chapoti to fill his stomach and to have enough left over to feed his uncle. We found a place and bought him some food. He stood and told us of his brother who had left home 3 years prior to never be heard from again and how his mother had passed away a year ago and how he had never been to school. He told us of how God had been teaching him English and how he had been raised in a family of catholics.
He put his food in his two little tins and continued walking with us for awhile. When we were next to our hotel I gave him 130 rupies (about 3 dollars) for passport photos and ID card and then we asked to pray for him. With tears of sincerity and genuine thankfulness he couldn't resist giving us hugs and thanking us a few times. This kind of reaction doesn't happen usually. This was more than just a script he was playing. We prayed for him and then he turned and looked at us and said that he couldn't give us anything in return…except for prayer.
We may have spent $5 on a man who was houseless but I'm pretty sure we got the better end of the blessing. The words of Jesus flowed over me as I looked at him…"when I was hungry, you gave me food…when I needed photos, you provided a way…when I longed for someone to just believe me, you did…when I was discouraged, you affirmed my value…" Yesterday, I felt His compassion through me. I don't always, but am thankful when I do. Yesterday, the world saw a homeless man with a sob story practiced to rip off foriegners. Yesterday, I saw Jesus in a man named Michael.
