India: Mumbai (Bombay)

08.10.2013

• Arrived in Mumbai early in the morning. Borrowed a cell phone to call my hotel and let them know I had arrived and was ready for my pick-up. Some confusion ensued leading me to get a cab and then find the person who was collecting me who had been waiting for me and was confused why his boss was upset with him for not being there to get me after I called. Oops. Slipped into bed before the sun came up and ready for rest. 
• Woke up in the morning and was tired again, not motivated to do anything. So, I did nothing. If you can call nothing going out for lunch across the street and then watching television on my computer in an air conditioned room. I chatted a bit with some of my new roomies including Guillermo, a Spaniard who has been in Mumbai for a few days but was excited to leave soon. Yeah, that's all to report. 

09.10.2013

• New rooies checked-in through the morning. Elise, from Germany, arrived early in the morning after a similar mix-up with transportation and a nap on the benches outside the airport. Brock, from Australia, is in town to check out a manufacturer who he may use to produce the socks for his new company Odd Pears - a playful design concept with a matching pair of socks that comes with an off color solo sock for mix and match fun.
• Brock and I decide to explore the town together and pop off in an auto rickshaw to the train station where we bought tickets and hopped aboard toward the center of Mumbai at the Churchgate exit. We walked through the city past the old Gothic and Victorian architecture (as if I know anything about architecture) of Universities and government buildings. We stopped into an art gallery and then the National Gallery of Modern Art which was hosting a Gopal Ghose exhibit along with the works of other notable Indian artists. 
• We wandered into an antique store replete with amazing trinkets and curiosities of every variety. I particularly loved the photos and paintings of old Mumbai in its British-rule manicured quality that seemed such a contrast with the dense and bustling metropolis outside. 
• We wandered through shops and vending stalls and then, being turned around, caught a cab over to the Gateway of India, a landmark built by the ruling Brits in the 1920's. The site had heavy security including metal detectors and pat downs. This seems reasonable in light of the bombings in the area in both 2008 and 2011. One blast was set at the Taj Mahal Hotel across the street which was our next stop after taking photos along the water, sometimes with Indian tourists who wanted to pose with the two scrawny white boys. 
• Another set of security checks and we are in the Taj Mahal Hotel which is as posh as any great hotel I have seen in my life. Actually, hotel touring is sort of a favourite past time of mine. This hotel had a wonderful selection of restaurants and was the hub of high end shopping with some big names and bigger jewels in display windows. Brock and I tried on shoes which I also did not buy before wandering into the famed Maharaja clothing store to try on silk shirts. I am now resolved to return to India with time and a budget for shopping.
• Hungry from our non-shopping-spree, Brock and I grabbed lunch at an Indian/English pub nearby and toyed with the idea of staying our last night in town at the Taj just to dip in the pool. We walked back down along the water on the sea wall and got lost in a back neighborhood with great views back to the city. It was a cacophony of sights and sounds and smells in this new part of the world to my sensory body. A mix of religious iconography and an onslaught of color at every turn. People in close proximity and music from every corner or the place. Then, there was the street food. It started with jalebi (dessert before dinner - love being an adult). Then it was fresh squeezed orange juice and jhaal muri, a puffed rice cereal mixed with spices and other goodies; = spicy heaven. That had to be kicked back with a fresh lassi or yogurt drink which was cool and creamy and sweet and tart and perfect. We had made our way back into the thick of town for these final snacks as a gentle rain broke and we enjoyed the refreshing change or a sit. 
• Now set on finding a Bollywood film we searched out directions from passers-by toward a movie theater only to be thwarted by sold-out and too-late messages. So, we talked by the park for a while and then gorged ourselves on sweets at a local bakery. I bought a box of macaroons which always make me miss Tracy who is the only reason I have developed a macaroon addiction anyway. The trains were packed with people returning home after long days in the city which is too expensive or undesirable for some to chose living in. I appreciated the closeness to strangers - like hugging a whole community. It can be nice to feel contact with people when you realize you are otherwise alone in the world. Rest to come.  

10.10.2013

• Chatted with Elise (who goes by the nickname, Else), our German roommate, and welcomed Yoko, a solo traveler from Japan, to our humble abode. The three of us decided to spend some tour time together today after sending our dear Brock off to his first meeting with his manufacturer. Else and Yoko and I started with breakfast at the hotel across the street to breakfast and then made the trip back downtown. I got to play tour guide as the old-hat in town and got us safely to Churchgate once again. 
• The train lets off near the High Court of Mumbai which is an impressive and foreboding structure with tall spires and guards out front. But, why not try to get inside? After checking our cameras, registering, going through security checks, we were in! We were in and with very little supervision. For people like myself (and Else as I was to discover) this means wandering on a self-guided tour with the expectation that we will get kicked out of any place we shouldn't be and that we were otherwise welcomed to explore at our heart's content. And that is how one finds themselves on the roof of the High Court outside of a men's restroom on the top floor outside the records office which is so buried in papers stacked floor to ceiling and against the windows that it seemed unlikely anyone would see us to tell us to cease our tour anyhow. Eventually we tired of our amazing view on the city and found out that we could actually walk into a court room to watch court cases! We didn't stay longer than three quick cases presided over by a small panel of judges with one clearly leading the activities with a someone smug sense of authority. They were all civil/small-claims-esque cases that required paperwork amendments and other logistical updates. Nothing too tense but fascinating to see the process and its players work through the system.  
• As hot as it was outside we actually were anxious to leave the air-con court room and walked back down toward the Gateway of India. Along the way we met a local guy who led us in the right direction and told us about his spice business and his recent fight with his phone carrier along with his musings on business culture in India. We stopped at a Gloria Jeans outfit for coffee witch reminded me of my time sitting in GJ's in Cambodia last year with my dear Sothida. Sigh. It was good, but not nearly as good as the chia we got on the street made with fresh ginger and a deep steep in rich spices. 
• As we arrived at the Gateway we saw a Brock walking up to meet us! We had planned to meet but none of us with cell phones and the encounter without our space age communication tools felt like a travel victory. Brock gave details about his meeting; Else's soft heart led us to buying rice and milk for woman begging in the square. She gave us beautiful jasmine flower arm bands in exchange which was intoxicating to my olfactory joy center the rest of the day. We walked toward the trains and Else and I talked about hospice care and some deeper thoughts on personal spirituality. She told me about her theater group back in Frankfurt and we cemented our instant friendship into something that was clear to be blooming into something less transient. 
• I took a train alone to meet someone I had been put in contact with before coming to India. The train was more packed than ever, to the point that I was not sure I would be able to squeeze myself off of it when my stop came. Helpful riders pushed me through the thick of hot human flesh toward the door and, before the train had fully stopped, and people began to climb aboard, I was helped with a final shove off the train. It was not a mean spirited push to the platform. In fact, I more or less crowd surfed off the train, my body suspended in mid-air as I floated toward the ground as people shifted to and fro the car. 
• I nearly lost a shoe in the process but survived to find my way in an auto toward Powai Lake on an auto ride that was perhaps the most terrifying though effective ride in a moving vehicle of my life. After asking around I found my way to the destination but was much later than originally expected with traffic and was unable to find my new pal. We had planned to visit a celebration for the Durga Puja festival which was happening in neighborhoods across town in cities all over India.  I got some great food from the vending stalls, watched a presentation of terrific Indian dance, and toured the temple that was erected to honor the Goddess Durga's triumph over the evil buffalo demon, Mahishasura. It was a beautiful display and a wonderful experience though laden with the guilt of flaking on a first-meeting. 
• I stayed until the dancing ended and then took an auto home to meet Else, Yoko, and Brock. We hung out for a while and I was struck by the feeling that we have all been traveling together as friends for weeks even though we just met in the last day. I feel home already in Mumbai with a new social group. Life is amazing and I am grateful for it. 

11.10.2013

• Today's new hostel arrival: Maria, another Frankfurter. Funny enough she's not actually staying overnight, just paying for a place to land her one night in Mumbai before she leaves tonight for Germany. Out group adds he right in and we step out for a dosa breakfast next door - a personal favourite south Indian dish for me. Then, we all crammed into a cab to the Bandra Market where the women of the group shopped for saris. 
• I left early in an auto to the Dadar bus station to meet Nishant, the guy I met in Rio, who is coming to see me after visiting his family in Pune! This is the first re-connection I have had on this trip and I can't wait to see him! Unfortunately, I was late to catch his bus coming in (I am sorta terrible at timing traffic here it seems) and had to find a public phone to call him. We agreed to meet at the Taj Mahal Hotel which is conveniently where the rest of my group is supposed to meet up later.
• I got another taxi to the hotel and waited for a while before calling Nishant who was having a rough time trying to find me and his other friend who was also running late (feeling bad for Nishant on his one day in the city and still not connecting with either of his pals). I promised to sit and wait as long as it took. I sat in the lobby, ordered a cup of tea which came with a lovely selection of cookies, and wrote out some of my thoughts and feelings about managing stress and the pace of life. Ultimately, I decided to relax and just enjoy the space... in a beautiful hotel in India waiting for friends... this is actually a wonderful situation to be in!
• My hotel posse arrived (also late - eh) and we enjoyed a great embrace in the joy of finding each other again. Yoko was joined by two friends-of-friends of a guy she met in Sri Lanka. Shortly thereafter my buddy, Nishant, arrived and we shared one of those grand long-lost-brother hugs that one might see at the airport arrivals gate. We all sat and drank tea in the posh setting of the Taj and made easy conversation whilst sneaking extra cookies out of our server. 
• We left in two cabs toward the train station but decided to appease our hungry stomachs and were taken by Yoko's new-friend to a wonderful vegetarian restaurant nearby. The meal was amazing with mushroom matar, friend rice, a palak paneer with the softest, creamiest cheese I've ever had in an Indian dish, all complimented by paper think chapati and rounded out by a dessert serving of gulab jamun. Conversation deepened quickly over our cluttered table and inevitably wandered from the subject of Indian culture into that of cultural differences, the development of social norms, what it means to 'maintain' culture, cultural 'evolution' and 'assimilation,' and the challenges of learning from and with each other. It was a fascinating go-round between the three guys from India (one of whom I met in Brazil and another who is heading off to work in the UAE), two Germans, an Australian, one person from Japan, and me, the guy from the USA. I love these moments. 
• Else and Brock tested their luck hanging out of the open train doors on the ride home as the locals do (although the locals are sometime hanging off the side of the trains too when they are particularly packed). We had said goodbye to Yoko's friends (ours now, too) and were resting briefly until Nishant's friend came to meet us. In the meantime we all practiced wrapping Maria in her new sari. With our new addition finally joining us we loaded up in autos and snaked our way across town to a bar of some sorts that we would take a long time to find and never actually see the inside of. While we were outside waiting for some to finish their smokes a woman approached Nishant asking if he could do a Canadian accent. He laughed and called me over. As the only one from North America (and living 20 minutes from Canada) I was called upon to produce a (slightly overdone, for effect) Canadian phrase or two. The woman lit up and launched into her pitch: she works for MTV India producing a TV show that airs tomorrow and the voice-over actor they hired to voice a Canadian-Indian character did not work out and would I please come to the studio (immediately) to record for her?! As if I would dream of saying no to this opportunity. 
• Our whole group abandoned the bar idea and we walked down the street to the largest production studio in India where I was led to a sound booth as my friends piled into the mixing room with the crew. It was fun and nerve racking. I quickly searched for the actor I had been in a previous life and tapped his resources for this very new-to-me medium. The show is called Webbed and focuses on internet crime. This episode, Couch Hopping With the Enemy (which you might still be able to watch online), was a tense story about a woman and her friend who fly to India to meet a man she had met on the internet who drugs, kidnaps, rapes, and abuses the two. What started as a fun project quickly escalated into an emotional experience as well, gagging myself with a rag to scream into the microphone during one scene. I also learned my first (and only) Hindi phrase which translates into, "People in Indian get married kinda young, right?" This phrase, by the way, is very impractical for starting conversation with Indian people one meets but makes for some delighted laughter when used out of context at social gatherings. Overall, a highlight of my trip, for sure: day four in the country and making my debut on national television tomorrow. 
• Most of my friends left early some went home early with Marie who needed to finish packing for her flight. Else and I rode home together laughing with gratitude at the turns of fate this mixed up world lofts from time to time. We arrived in time to say our goodbyes to Maria (I can't believe it was only 1 day with her!) and even sneaked in a quick call with Kevin who is heading to San Francisco this weekend to see Jessica Day, the talented vixen I refer to as 'the other woman.' Time for bed. Wondering what other surprises Mumbai could possible have to offer.   

12.10.2013

• Woke up to email from studio needing me to go back in for a whole scene they forgot to have me record. Thankfully there was time to have breakfast with my pals first. Took an auto to the studio and met Prince who guided me through the recording process for the show that airs tonight! From the studio I took another auto to the Santa Cruz area writing out branding ideas for Brock's sock company. I arrived and bought a pair of sunglasses to replace those I left in a cab in Dubai and then made my way to the Barista Cafe, an Indian take on Italian culture. 
• I nursed a couple of virgin mojitos until my friend, Sushil, arrived. Sushil is the guy I had contact information for before coming to India who I accidentally stood-up for the Durga Puja the other night. He was generous enough to forgive me and invite me for a drink and a meeting. Yes, even in Mumbai, Michael Light can find his way to an organizing meeting. Sushil is a member of the planning group for Mumbai's Gay Pride festival and they are having a meeting tonight in an office nearby. 
• We caught up and got to know one another a bit and walked over to the meeting site where folks trickled in bringing snacks and chatter and gossip and work materials. The meeting was loud and dynamic as it ran through the various issues surrounding a very full set of agenda items. The 2014 pride events covered more than a week and included live theater, panel discussions, a lecture from a professor of architecture about the ancient representations of LGBTQ life in India, sporting events, parties, marches, film screenings, and more. It reminded me of learning about pride in Cambodia which my friends help organize which involves multiple days of arts and culture events for the whole community. Oddly, I believe that pride weeks in more conservative countries, perhaps in the need to be creative in their inability to have half-naked men on floats in the streets, seem far more interesting that those I have seen in North America. There was an interesting conversation about including more recognizably gay-associated landmarks in the skyline of Mumbai on the poster, including the McDonald's arches, the metro sigh, and a joke made about a men's restroom sign. It reminded me of the places that many queer people in the United States did and still do find to connect with one another for secrecy and safety. The group members were diverse and full of zeal and bright and really on top of their shit and activating. Issues of getting permissions from the High Court were bantered about, tasks were assigned, budgets were set, and deadlines were drawn hard in the sand. I was simply impressed and sad not to be here for the main event(s). 
• After the meeting, Sushil and I took an auto out to another Durga Puja festival space back near the production studio (the festival lasts multiple days and spaces are erected in neighborhoods all over the city). We met two of his friends, one an oncologist and the other a clinical trials researcher, both gay-identified. We ate some kati kaba rolls and an assortment of ghee sweets (made with ghee, a clarified butter product). We snapped some photos and walked to his friend's car who drove us to his home ordering take-out food on the way.
• At his friend's apartment we greeted his live-in partner who, sadly, had thrown his back out pretty badly. We ate take-out and home-made dahl and talked about inane things like cell phones until the conversation turned to some more pointed sociocultural topics (I wonder how that happened...). I learned about the importance of vegetarianism, vegetarian identity, and meat-consuming counter-culture. I listed to intense conversation about the intersection between ethnicity, class, and sexuality. I learned how difficult it can be to come out to your family in India and how hard it can be to live with a same-sex partner. I also learned how outlawed caste discrimination can be maintained in a sector like housing simply by referring to someone's last name. I learned about regional differences with certain festivals, tensions between ethnic groups and talked about solidarity movements between oppressed groups. We talked about housing costs and urban density and cost of living issues and how they affect people from different income levels. Another great night of food and conversation that too had to eventually come to an end. 
• A shared auto ride home to crawl into bed late. More and more and more than I expected from my time in this country. Goodnight. 

13.10.2013

• The day starts with goodbyes to Yoko as Else and I ride with her to the airport. Sad to see one of the members of our new little family take off. We all look forward to seeing her somewhere in the wold again one day, perhaps for sushi in Japan! Or, at the reunion in Mumbai we have all agreed to at the Taj Hotel, with partners and children as they come, and sushi at the Morimoto restaurant inside which we missed the first go round. Love, Yoko.
• Brock and Else and I started our day with a visit to the Mani Bhavan Museum dedicate to the life and work of Mahatma Gandhi in the home where he lived for a time. It was enlightening and touching to see images and artifacts and written words that make up some of the stories of his tremendous efforts toward the liberation of India from the British in 1947. We sat in the library after and looked at books on freedom and the human design for a vegetarian diet. We sat quietly for a bit taking in the gravity of the exhibits and contemplating this place we have all found ourselves, newbies to a vibrant and complicated country.  
• We made our way back downtown on our usual route. Else bought what is now referred to as the iRonic phone. We walked around the parks and buildings of the city center on our last full day in the city of Mumbai. We walked into the postal building which looks more like a castle and made speeches to one another from the podium under the sign for National Postal Week. We ordered chai from a street vendor and took turns toasting our wishes for one another on our life and travel journeys ahead. We were sentimental and affectionate and humorous and trying to drag out the time like spinning yarn into the thinnest threads possible without breaking. 
• Then, finally, we made it to see a movie! We got tickets, bought some masala spiced popcorn, and found seats and then stood for the Indian national anthem with the other viewers before the show started. We were here to see, War Chhod Na Yaar (Quit the War, Dude!), a comedy that focuses on the trivial nature of war as puppeted by private interests of powerful nations in discussing the tensions between India and Pakistan using the power of human relationship and media activism to rally a message against political violence. It was a Hindi language film but I remember it as if it was in English (you can get a lot of context without understanding language) that was both funny and touching and uplifting. After the show we were asked to take photos with our concessioner before we headed home for the night, Else and I in our usual chorus of song on the train. 
• Back at the ranch we met our new roomie, Glen, here from Belgium to complete his thesis researching "slum tourism" in India, Mumbai owning to the largest under-developed and resource limited urban community in the world. We talked about similar research in Rio and Cape Town which has been written about more extensively and both cities on my itinerary. New friend for a short time with whom I can swap research papers! Thanks, Glen! 

14.10.2013

• Last day in Mumbai. Last dosa breakfast with Brock. Else agreed to come with me to Goa tonight so we have more dosa breakfasts ahead. A half dozen Watermelon smoothies between us and a nice tip and goodbye to the guys at the dosa house and we are off again. We gawked and giggled and waved at the man in the auto next to ours holding his goat. We hopped on the train after I bought a terrible cola flavoured of fennel - I have a pretty broadly accepting palate but I do have limits too. Brock gave me the woven shoes he had purchased a few days before and opted for the comfort of bare feet for the day - a brave move in my estimation. On the train we made friends with three sisters who were heading into town for mom's birthday celebration/shopping day. I miss children. I want children. 
• We exchanged the iRonic phone for one that works (we hope) although Brock and Else's sim cards, purchased 3 days ago, are still not working. We walked to Gloria Jeans for coffee and shivered in the air con. With heavy hearts and glad smiles Else and I said our goodbyes with grand hugs to Mr. Brock and promised to buy socks as soon as they were for sale online. Such a sweet and polite and bright and cuddly man. Sunshine Coast, Australia: welcome to the travel must-do list. See you soon, friend. 
• Else and I made our last train ride, caught an auto to the hostel, grabbed our stuff, and made a quick exit in another auto to the hotel where we were to meet our overnight bus to Goa. We ordered our dinner to-go and stood outside glad to be on time. We shared the stories behind the charms and amulets that people gave us to keep us safe on our travels. As we appreciated the prayers that people keep us in we were approached by woman who took our attention, said she had noticed us waiting and inquired with the staff about our travel plans, discovered that we were at the wrong place to catch our bus, insisted on calling our our bus company, then contacted our bus driver on his cell phone and insisted that he wait for us at the next stop, flagged us down another auto and gave directions to the driver, and sent us on our way with a smile. Thank you to all those of you who do keep me in your prayers and to whom I attribute these guardian angels!
• Else and I boarded our waiting bus and climbed into our double sleeper, a bed lofted above bus seats with a curtain to contain our giggling and a window overlooking the passing festivals and city lights which faded into darkness as we pulled out of Mumbai. Else's name had been changed from the online registration form I completed to Else Light, my new bride! Surely, a man and woman traveling in a sleeper together must share a name. We ate our take-away and laughed ourselves silly before sinking into a cuddled conversation about life and death and all things mystical. We bundled up under the blast of more air con and tried to sleep, interupted occationally for rest stops where I couldn't resist buying more sweets. Goodbye, Mumbai - I owe you something for the amazing stories, experience, and new friends.