The first religious congregation I discerned a vocation with a decade ago was the Missionary of Charity. It took me to Phnom Penh for a "come and see" experience during which the sisters brought me to the slums to visit some families.
In a tiny house made of zinc and cardboard, there was no sanitary facilities or electricity. The sisters were well covered to the head (thanks to the wisdom of Mother Teresa for making the sari uniform the way it is) but I wasn't. And for the whole time I was there, I was more caught up with not catching any headlice than anything else. I didn't want to touch anything nor