Well, you know what they say about your second day in India…
I must say today has been my first real introduction to Mumbai as a city, much different from yesterday, although that day was also a good day. I had felt a little unnerved at all the attention I was receiving for being white and obviously western, and probably a gullible fool ( One beggar told me to change my clothes to more traditional Indian dress, then I wouldn’t attract so much attention. Word up!), but it may also be that they see me as some kind of wise or Holy man. I’m not sure. However, today I ventured a long way outside the area I’m staying in, with much different results…
I hadn’t realised that Colaba, the area I am staying in, is a touristy kind of spot ( its hard to tell- there are no tourists) and so there is a much greater concentration of salesmen. Last night I met up with friends of Bens, who took me around and showed me a little of Mumbai after dark. Ratna and Kini were absolutely brilliant company, and excellent guides. We drank in the swanky-dank-dank bars, and ate in a ‘quarter bar’, the kind of place guys like me wouldn’t normally go into. I ate with my hands, and the toilet was filthy. I am not sick yet, but I am on the right track. There are two schools of advice on food hygeine for westerners here- don’t eat or touch anything, and wash yourself after everytime you think of anything with food or vowels in it. OR- eat and touch everything, and do as they do. The latter will involve you definitely being sick for two days, but after that you have a stomach of steel, and can happily smoke left over butts from the beach in Goa without fear. At the end of the night, we couldn’t get in anywere, so Kini asked if I’d like to see ‘Bombays dark gay scene’. Of course I assented, but alas, this joint was also closed.
Seeing a city with the locals really gives you more courage to go venturing on your own, so today I went to Chor Bazaar ( thieves market). I was expecting the worst, to be harrassed and harangued like I have been in Colaba, but surprisingly, I was able to walk around unimpeded ( ok, scuttle around staring at the ground and saying the rosary); apart from some looks, its was the most natural I’ve felt since being here. The place is incredible, a beehive of alleys and streets selling everything from ship parts to doorknobs. I then took a taxi tour of the city- the taxi man took me around for three hours to all the spots in Mumbai, for around 9 pounds. This is expensive. I’m pretty sure i’m being ripped off wherever I go, but I have developed a kind of knowing look, something between a squinting smirk and an attempted sweet benevolent forgiving gaze that says, I know I am being ripped off, but that is ok, because I’ve read about these things and I am no fool, please don’t kill me. That’ll learn them.
Today we drove around the city in an air con ( 200 rupees extra- he will happily drive in sweltering heat if you don’t pay it) taxi cab with no wing mirrors. The roads here are permanently jammed, mostly because there are no rules as to how to drive your car. The main roads of the city, some of them dirt tracks, accommodate anything up to seven vehicles across, mixed with animals, hand carts, auto rickshaws and bicycles. Anywhere we stopped involved beggars coming up to the window. The poverty is just incredible; there are so many people who live outside, and just sleep in the open air. What is more alarming is how easily people seem to accept the bizarre class system here. People don’t mind being rude to waiters, waiters don’t mind people being rude to them, and no one seems to mind that more people live in the slums than in houses in Mumbai. The saddest thing I have seen so far was a little girl aged about six trying to beg money at my taxi window. You are advised not to give any money, so I resisted. She looked mournful, pathetic, wasted and beautiful. As we drove off, she waved goodbye even though I had tried not to acknowledge her at all. This made me feel truly awful; I will try to somehow give to beggars, but in Mumbai, I have been told to be cautious about taking my wallet out. It is very difficult though- one beggar was even wearing a Liverpool top.
Today I saw a house were Ghandi stayed, the largest outdoor laundry in Asia, and a tower of decaying corpses being picked at by vultures. I also stepped inside a silver temple, not realising there was a full Hindu ceremony taking place. Woman were singing and banging drums, little girls were adorning statues with flowers. I have no idea what any of it meant, it’s possible this happens all day every day. I tried not to look clumsy and western, but I don’t think I pulled this off. I feel terribly under prepared for all of this, but it would take a lifetime to learn everything about this wonderful place.
The sounds and smells of this city hang together in the air jostling with each other for your attention. The great heat colours the smell, which is a mixture of spices, perfumes, sweat and hot soil. Everywhere you go, it is like the city has wrapped its arms and legs around you.
Tonight I’m going to see some traditional dance, and then get the train to Goa. The rainy season has started there, so it will be an altogether different experience. I asked the guy in the hotel when the rain would come to Mumbai ( yeah, I sounded pretty in the know), and he just said ‘ God is great’. Fair enough.
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