Outstanding capital ...

Life is strange programs often meticulously every event and then suddenly you are still in a situation entirely unexpected.

Despite resolutely wish to impose your will you realize that adversity you are superior and so you have to resign.

Leaving then "carry" in these new situations came to be created, understand that perhaps unconsciously find what you were looking for, and realize that what you wanted at the bottom.

This summer I wanted to spend a special holiday, doing something useful for others in order to feel "alive", and react well to a period certainly not happy for me.

Unfortunately, after months of waiting the same civil protection I would like to thank you for your cooperation and availability, but I do not return more in their work programs in Vlora (Albania) For different circumstances the same argument applies to the Caritas, and the Blue Cross Gromford, in their projects in Kosovo. Busso unnecessarily to the secular movement for human rights, since they too are busy with several projects in the Balkans, but also no answer them.

I do not take courage Shot down and so I decided to make real my old dream, go to Bangladesh to see a dear friend: Father Ezio. Only you have the visa for this country seems to be impossible, I decided then to focus on the "close" India. It 's so that after a series of mistakes that will save many, I find myself by accident in Kolkata, but only what is worse ... without knowing a word of English. Thank god after being temporarily accommodated at the Italian Consulate and, I met three days after an Italian friar (Pasquale), who worked with the nuns of Mother Teresa. Already by the mere fact of speaking Italian I was in seventh heaven, but the best result I obtained it when resting on a large "box" asking for information on the marble tomb of the Holy Mother, the same brother without a word with my eyes indicated that there was leaning over. Thus began for me a wonderful experience, extraordinary, as is extraordinary and magic this city. A Calcutta infatti, there is a middle, you always live intensely in the extreme situation they are in good and in bad times. There is the gray color, or is black or white. Either you are wise you are either crazy, sinners or saints ... or you are rich or miserable. In the same slam built mostly with cardboard, then find a shop with the Internet and e-mail; while there are men who drag barefoot horse rickshaws, at the same time you can travel by Metro. The simple cross the street becomes an adventure. Full monsoon period, you can find with water to the knees, trying to follow the trail of the rickshaw to avoid ending up in some hole and hurt your feet, real phobia saw the big chance to take a look around without too much accidente.Infatti you feel otherwise miss, when you realize you over, the alone merda, also several dead rats floating on the water, of different tonnage.

One gets the image of India thinking that it is the land of beautiful temples, art of sounds, colors and scents, cradle of many religions, conducive to meditation and inner peace but here everything seems just the opposite.

Devastating is the noise, myriads of vehicles ( if you can call it that), move in a chaotic manner, all sound like some sort of identification, a way of sentisi alive, smog you feel it immediately in the lungs, as well as the strong stench clogs the nostrils. The humidity will stick as well as the clothes also have the same exhaust smoke, this is not enough the outline offers apocalyptic visions, thousands of people who live literally on the road.

I remember about that first scene I saw just arrived in town: a child naked on a pile of manure arguing with a dog and a raven to compete for a piece of rotten coconut. It was like being in a surreal world, seemed to be in a Dantesque.

I already wanted to go home immediately, received the shock was too strong, yet I was already two years as a volunteer in Bolivia, and I thought I had already sailed, I thought that certain realities were just figments for a movie or were exaggerated to give more weight to a book ...

Immediately you realize that Calcutta is full of shit and manure , but perhaps also full of magic and amore.In this pouch from a multitude of varied colors, the nuns in white saris, become real angels, fell in this valley of tears to donate be a slight help to these unpublished Damned. Sisters magnificent, work hard, pregano strong, but especially love ... always with a smile and serenity in the heart.

Just attending their parent, as a sort of miracle you realize that Mother Teresa is still present among them. Maybe it will be the plaster statue that portrays still sitting in her usual place to pray after a hard day's work, or maybe it will be his many writings that call for reflection, or maybe just because in the midst of all those white saris She gets confused and amused hides happy and carefree to continue his work. Incredible notice in the pictures of the actress, how beautiful this little runt, because the same nuns who are now really look just as beautiful, rivaling some. A real beauty, date perhaps from the kindness that they leaked. Just working with them I witnessed two memorable episodes. Going to visit with other volunteers (of different ages and nationalities) ad un lebbrosario, where for precautionary reasons we could not work, we were all agreed to note that these lepers were happy and serene. Three meals a day, all had their own occupation, this is not enough and they bent over backwards to show their joy. "Sin" that towards the end of our visit we noticed the only discordant note of this happy: a sad girl with tears in his eyes. I remember it was just that little detail to lose in front of the hard and harsh reality. Although apparently looked happy, rightly feel that we did: "The leper is not the best of life". Out of their "island" even the most wretched of the wretched refuse any contact with these people, convinced that they are the forgotten by God.

The other unforgettable episode instead seems from the book heart, or from Andersen's fairy tale with a happy end, or maybe it was just a miracle ...?

A volunteer American, teacher named Margaret, not knowing how to spend their holidays, instead of going to the usual beach, decided to work two months ... in the City of Joy .... Here he met a little boy Tomas visually impaired, with great difficulty neuromotor enough to force him to bed for eight years and that since he was born. Well after one month only, Tomas with the aid of a chair now awkwardly walking , wonderful and contagious becomes his happiness. I wonder who knows how many there might be Margaret on our beaches, I wonder how much are incomprehensible and at the same time simple designs of God. I myself felt stupidly alone and rejected by all, and now smothered by hugs of these children, I feel welcomed and loved ... I feel one of them, my hands are not enough to accommodate all, I am often attacked a child at each finger. I realize that maybe I am a spectator of another miracle as I'm concerned directly. If already at the first day came to Calcutta, I wanted to run home to kiss their homeland once arrived at Linate, I now see at a distance of one month if it were not for my three wonderful children, I would ask the Indian nationality even though you do not leave this sort of "paradise".

Just my three children but I do understand that after all you do not need to travel a lot, to understand that the magic of Calcutta we can find everywhere, when we learn to love unconditionally. I understand eating dice Mother Teresa: "What is Calcutta worldwide, everywhere there are the unloved, i rejected the forgotten; loneliness is the true leprosy and is in Rome as in Kolkata…and I would add to Petosino

Another episode that makes me particularly happy to note that it is right here in India, where the most popular religions are Hindu and Muslim, I feel proud and lucky if only for the simple fact of being a Christian. Of course, "my god" does not look so much to the races or castes, or thanks to the misfortunes that affect people, on the contrary looks directly at the heart of every man, preaching solidarity love and mercy, the same Mother Teresa is a warning.

Nice to see that without a camera put in crisis the majority of Indians. For them it is inconceivable that a foreign travel without it and then be able to confirm. Of course they do not know that I have a very special way to document. Fixed a particular subject close my eyes and as if it were still visible .. clik.. Snap a photo of me brain, confident that it will forever preserved not only the image but also in the sounds noises and smells.

Recalling this trip to India I often below are three of those special photos ...:

..shining eyes of the girl leprous that urges me not to be arrogant and be cautious in making judgments. The eyes diaphanous Tomas and his infectious smile that urges me to thank God for every miracle that gives us daily with joy

And last but not least ... a strange photo that shows a little nun with a white dress, anzi lucente,that is around smiling in a magical city, and urges us to combine the verb easier ..... love