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.