After nearly a month and half of being up here, I decided it was about time I finally checked out the room that Mother Teresa lived in during her life at the Mother House. Sorry, no pictures allowed to be taken. As expected, her room was as simple as the words she had written on a piece of tape on her dresser, “my vocation is love.” With nothing more than a writing desk, small table, dresser, single bed, and some love...Mother Teresa changed the world and it makes you wonder what all of us could do as well if our vocation was love. Can you imagine? Where when asked the question of “what do you do for a living” the universal response would be something like, “technically speaking, I’m a financial analyst, but in reality, my vocation is love.” What a world that would be to live in. Or maybe that’s heaven? In reflecting on this more, I can’t help but think too, that maybe the reason as to why so many people seem to be dissatisfied with their work and not love what they do is because they took love itself out of what they do. I know I’ve been guilty of this in the past. Just seeing work as work instead of as an opportunity to love on people. Just for peace of mind to everyone with all this love talk I’m on, particularly my parents, I may be hanging out with people like I did last night for a birthday party, but I’m not hanging out with people doing LSD or anything like that so don’t worry.
Speaking of the birthday party, not sure if I missed the memo on this, but evidently, along with my two King Fisher lagers I packed for the festivities, I was supposed to bring a talent to sing and play the guitar like the other 8 guys at the party. I have no idea what the percentage is of males worldwide that play the guitar and sing, but as far as international male travelers go, I think the percentage is like 90%. I say this not only because of my experience last night, but also because of a few other rooftop socials here where people seem to pass the guitar around as if it’s a bag of chips--the kind that everyone can't resist dipping their hands into. In a desperate attempt to try and find some type of common bond with these guys, I made sure to mention that my Dad loved to play the guitar and that I was a big fan of Eric Clapton, but I don’t think that got me too many points. After a good jam session, the party trickled over to a local nightclub called, “Venom” and once there, I would have preferred getting bit by an actual snake and dealing with the venom than by the 300 rupee ($6 American dollars) price for a bottle of corona there. Being a man of principle, I decided to not stay very long at the club and I wouldn't say I was missed much, especially by the girls, since they were all busy with the guitar players.
Below, you'll find a picture of the entrance to the Mother House. Mother Teresa to this day is still working here.