maximum city

i have only been in mumbai for two weeks and i am utterly exhausted by the seeming endless rat race of daily life. my daily travel time averages about 5 hours (sometimes more) of sweaty, bumpy, intimate-human-contact fun. today i got to the train station (after 40 minutes on a rickshaw) just as the train for downtown was pulling out of the station. i jumped on as it was moving not noticing which car i entered. i looked around at the tiny car and people started shaking crutches and leg stumps at me. i quickly withered my hand and tried to become inconspicuous in the handicapped car. they kicked me off at the next stop. then tonight as i was heading back north, i thought i was safely in the all female car. halfway home a group of drag queens stormed the car and started petting my head as woman showered money on them.
needless to say, mumbai is an incredible and unique city. it is packed with people, from the poor, relentless beggar to the benz driving mogul. finding space is definitely a problem. on the train and when walking, one gets a full body massage. even when i rode a motorcycle, i had the thigh of the guy on the bike next to me pressed on one side and on the other a truck wheel; there were rickshaws knocking my knees at every turn. sometimes there are so many people living under one roof, you practically have to get a time share in your own home. a related problem is the pollution that leaves the residents black-lunged and red-eyed. the ubiquitous banyan tree cannot find anywhere to lay its roots. mumbai puts nyc to shame as the city that never sleeps. at midnight i've seen women in their night gowns, daughters in tow, doing some grocery shopping and men having a late night bath on the side of the road.
mumbai holds remnants of a deep history alongside the most modern phenomena. it's becoming victim to hyper-consumerism with stores lining every street and mega-malls on many corners. the upper class is obsessed with novel ring tones, bollywood stars and brand name snobbery. but it still houses a rich past manifested in religious fervor and superstition, marriage customs and manner of dress. religion is the real heartbeat of the city. with hinduism, islam, jainism, buddhism, christianity and others all at home in bombay, there are religious festivals every day of the year. the bomb blasts and riots in the 90s are still talked about and have largely dictated how the city is divided. when walking down the sidewalk you will invariably run into a pile of shoes in front of either a garishly painted hindu temple or an intricately latticed mosque. it took me some time to get used to the swatikas (originally used in hinduism and buddhism long before it was appropriated by hitler) that are all over the city on trucks, foreheads, shops and jewelry.
i feel that i've learned enough here to fill a novel, but have not even scratched the surface. i cannot say that i will be sad to leave and go find a place with breathable air and space to fling my arms. in mumbai it is nearly impossible to get away from all the chaos and the clamor, to find silence, solitude, and time to become human again.



haj ali dargan

"further up and further in"

today i went to the kanheri caves just north of the city. they are 109 first century buddhist caves carved into the hillside. no one else was there except the guy who sold me the ticket to get into the park. i don't know why more people don't visit this exquisite piece of history. i spent the better part of the day ascending and descending steps (buddhists love their steps) and exploring dark caves. i was only stopped once when a large reddish snake lashed out when i tried to cross its path. i highly recommend the kanheri caves to anyone in the area; they are a beautiful retreat away from the hectic city.

"well i'm convinced the whole day long that all i learn is always wrong and things are true that i forget but no one taught that to me yet"

some of the things i have learned so far in mumbai:
--the ubiquitous side to side head bobble here means something like yes, ok, maybe, thanks...
--indians have a wicked spit projectile.
--wear a sports bra on the rickshaws.
--if possible, spend the extra money to get soundproof walls. last night i though someone was hawking a loogie in my bed.
--diapers, tampons and toilet paper are luxuries.
--always wash behind and in your ears (you may find dirt from several continents.)
--americans need to learn some hospitality.
--distance in mumbai is measured in minutes (usually underestimated) not miles or kilometers) and the concepts of north,south, east and west are nonexistent.
--heterosexual men holding hands is normal, men and women holding hands is not.
--praying before leaving the house is non-negotiable, and probably a good idea considering the likelihood of dying in transit.
--having two thumbs is auspicious, as is being a hermaphrodite.
--car horns should be used excessively to warn, distract, enrage, or just make nice rhythms.
--to me, indian music sounds like dying cats.
--some of the beggars arrive at their posts in cars from their nice homes in the suburbs.
--to get someone's attention, hiss like a snake or make a kissing sound.
--wherever you are, get familiar with the breaker box/room
--barefoot is the way to go. thank goodness for the harvey leather soles.
--no one touches their lips to their bottle or glass; they pour it into their mouths. i only figured this out after every person on the train stared at me as i guzzled my water.
--madeleine l'engle died (i wish someone had told me!) hopefully she has escaped camazotz for a better place.

"not with a bang but a whimper"

today i went out to new mumbai (east of the city) on a rickshaw named jesus. we drove on bumpy dirt roads through deserted green countryside to visit another balwadi and then a home for orphans/people with AIDS/mentally ill patients (yes all lumped together) in the small village of panvel. the balwadi was great. we sang more songs and learned some letters and for lunch they proudly served me fried chicken, fries and coke while i enviously watched them eat curry.
the home for society's unwanted people was run by a friendly mr. larson type. he was well intentioned i'm sure , but i got very angry with him when he told me that "we give them food and a happy place and that is enough." there was a ten year old girl who was practically a skeleton dying of AIDS, along with about 100 other kids, adults, and babies who look like fetuses, who are positive. i asked him about medicine but he said that's just not what they do and that it's hard to get. i actually started crying i was so angry....though maybe it is indeed just too hard to get medicine, i really don't know for sure. but i know that if some of these kids get on medicine now, their HIV may never become AIDS. what is so frustrating is that there are all these NGOS each trying to save the world in its own bubble, but if they would just get together they could do so much more. there needs to be an NGO that provides a network for them..(well there probably already is somewhere..)

my trusty jesus

the amazing landscape in panvel. why do so many people live in dirty mumbai when this is just next door?!


cleaner slums than nairobi



maybe everyone is tired of these beautiful kids..but here are a few more.



all the moms of the kids in the balwadi showed up for an inspirational speech from the white lady.


"open your mouth for the mute,
for the rights of all who are destitute.
open your mouth, judge righteously,
defend the rights of the poor and
needy."

salaam/namaste

i've been here in mumbai now for four days staying with msf staff jacob, his wife binu and his two daughters. the city is not very international so i am even more foreign, blonde, and deserving of stares than in nairobi. so far, the city reminds me a little of nyc except more populous and much harder to navigate. in an attempt to erase the memory of the british and reclaim the city, all the names of the streets and landmarks (and even the city itself) have been renamed. most of the locals are confused so you can imagine me. after living in nairobi, i realized the best way to immerse oneself in a new place is to take public transportation. so by the end of my first day here i had traveled by rickshaw, local train and elephant (i wish..there are elephants in the streets though). the rickshaws are a brilliant and cheap way to get around; they fit neatly in the traffic like tetris pieces, hitting peds when necessary. the local train (mumbai's "lifeline") is really an experience. about 11 or 12 people die on the train each day..mostly by hanging out the sides and getting decapitated. suresh told me this nonchalantly before i got on the train, like it's the city's method of population control. on the train there are separate women's and a men's cars (i found this out after riding in the men's). during high commuter hours, your feet barely touch the ground it is so full. mumbai is so big and there is so much congestion that people spend several hours each day just getting to where they're going. there were even women on the train cutting vegetables for their evening meals.

typical


the dhobi ghats where much of the city's washing is done. the washers put little marks on the clothes that have actually been important in forensics to solve crimes by identifying the marks on the victims clothes.

navarati festival going on now. dancing in the street at all hours.

the past couple days i have visited several balwadis (day care centers/schools). here are some pictures from one in the slum malwani. please click on the pics to enlarge. these kids are so so beautiful!


navina taught much of the class
sweating from so much yelling








i wanted to take this one home with me. can someone confirm that she looks like brantley?



also, jacob, suresh and aby took me yesterday afternoon to do some sightseeing.(they get nervous when i go around alone, though i have been able to escape a few times) we went to the afghan church, the gateway of india, and the jehangir art gallery. there is some fabulous contemporary art here but all the pieces are for sale so there is no permanent art collection here.
aby insisted we go to a sari shop before we went home (this was around 9 at night when mumbai just starts to get going). the experience was priceless: three indian men advising me on fashion, grabbing fabric, throwing it over my shoulder. (sounds like the men in our family...) "try this one! oh my wife would like this one! get all three!" suresh even got his wife on the phone to consult her.


this is the famous afghan church that was built by the british to commemorate their dead soldiers. here are pews with notches for the churchgoers to store their guns.

victoria terminus

at the gateway of india





my wonderful tour guides and fashion consultants

susan teaching me how to properly wear a sari

one other funny-for-you-terrifying-for-me story: on sunday i went to church with suresh and his family. i couldn't understand much in the 3 hour service but at one point the pastor asked me to get up and introduce myself. i briefly said hello and thank you etc...then he said they had set aside this slot for me to "share a prophetic word". i jumped on a rickshaw and got out of there. actually, i mumbled and bumbled like i usually do when speaking in front of more than one person.

a quote from one of my favorite writers that really speaks to what i'm experiencing (sorry that sounded kind of pretentious)

boast of quietness by borjes

writings of light assault the darkness, more prodigious than meteors.
the tall unknowable city takes over the countryside.
sure of my life and my death, i observe the ambitious and would like to understand them.
their day is greedy as a lariat in the air.
their night is a rest from the rage within steel, quick to attack.
they speak of humanity.
my humanity is in feeling we are all voices of the same poverty.
they speak of homeland.
my homeland is the rhythm of a guitar, a few portraits, an old sword, the willow grove's visible prayer as evening falls.
time is living me.
more silent than my shadow, i pass through the loftily covetous multitude.
they are indispensable, singular, worthy of tomorrow.
my name is someone and anyone.
i walk slowly, like one who comes from so far away he doesn't expect to arrive.

ps. read the book "maximum city" by suketu mehta for a real look at mumbai.