The last quiet days in Nairobi I used to prepare myself for India. I read a lot about it, what to expect, how to behave, what to wear and where to go (and most importantly also what NOT to expect, or wear, how not to behave and so on) and I was quite... alert, if not anxious about being by myself in a country that people either hate or love.
I am by myself now, because John had to go back to London. Farewells are never nice and especially not when you depart from your loved one to travel dodgy countries all alone. But everybody should follow their own dreams and not someone else's, so this is what we had decided. Sounds mature and makes sense, but there were tears involved and sweet promises...
Arriving at 3:30 a.m. didn't give me the opportunity to have a first impression of India, the next morning (well, actually the same morning) I had some lentil-dish for breakfast and bumbled around in my room as the aggressive street noise from outside the hotel intimidated me. But I had several tasks to do, so I forced myself out in the damp heat, trying to find shops for phone charger, copying documents, passport photos etc. And I was successful! :-)
In my favour: a) everybody talks English (sometimes hard to understand, but I get there), b) everybody is very helpful, they would tell me where to find what if their shop doesn't have it and c) everything is available somewhere. You might think the shop which does photos could photocopy something or the shop that photocopies might have some stationery... very wrong! A shop is mostly a 2x2m stall and very specialized. Once owns a copy machine so he does photocopies only. another one owns a camera, so he can take your picture and so on. So I was running circles, but was lucky to find everything eventually.
I even made my way to the nearby train station of my hotel neighborhood, bought myself a train ticket 1st class to downtown and jumped on the next train after I had to ask someone if it was the right direction... The train doors always stay open and it barely stops at the stations, just slow enough for people to hop on and off. It took about 30 minutes to the last stop and we were mainly passing slums. But thanks to 3 months in Africa I wasn't shocked by the dirt and the poverty anymore. I saw people chucking waste out of their window on the 2nd floor, which landed on a huge pile under that window. I wondered how they can live with that, the smell, the ugliness and not feel guilty... but then again... as there is no such thing as a communal waste collection the city should feel guilty, shouldn't it?
Somewhere on that drive sandwiched between many people, but luckily standing close to the door to catch some breeze I realized that I was surrounded only by men. It took me a while to find that out, because nobody behaved as if it was unusual me in that coach. But it was! All women and children ride on the ladies coach, I had read about it but totally forgotten. And then I realized that I had bought first class tickets but was now standing in "normal" class... Anyway, I enjoyed the ride until the heat took its toll and I had to sit down on the floor in order not to faint...
I got out at the famous Victoria Station (for tourists, for locals Chhatrapati Shivaji Terminus) and walked around something that was considered the tourist area. And only here I was harassed again by touts, street sellers and beggars, so I didn't enjoy it that much. I couldn't even find anything interesting about the "gateway to India" an undecorated, dull gate at the harbor. No, Mumbai's beauty doesn't come from architectural sights.
After several hours walking around, trying to survive the traffic, seeing everything but without looking at anything (to not attract anybody), sipping a freshly squeezed pineapple juice I made my way home with all the commuters after work, but this time sitting in the ladies coach (no 1st class though).
And then at dusk back in my neighborhood (called Khar West btw) looking back at my day I started to enjoy myself totally. Despite the warnings from my guidebook (saying "Be prepared to be stared at; it's something you'll have to live with so don't allow it to get the better of you"), nobody neither men nor women is giving me a second look. It is by far less conspicuous to walk around without a man on my side than it was in Africa. Everybody is friendly and not importunate. Maybe it's specially Mumbai, I'm sure in the rural areas they still stare at Westerners, maybe it's because I wear my hair in a bun, big sunglasses and harem pants, but here I feel very comfortable.
I collected some of the most astonishing contrasts that I came across:
The list will be continued I'm sure :-)
On my second day in Mumbai I was busy in my neighborhood. I had to organize a few things and ended up walking around aimlessly for 4 hours. A turn here, an interesting looking shop there and I came further and further away from the hotel. The Khar West suburb seems to be a richer one even though not comparable to western standards rich. A branch of the university is situated here, so I saw many young women in western clothes. The traffic of course is crazy as usual. Everytime I have to cross a street, no matter how small, I am grateful to have survived. You just cannot oversee from where the next vehicle might come, so you just run and hope for the best. But other than this I enjoyed myself a lot. I got my pictures taken, screened several shops for a salwar kameez for myself (unsuccessfully, yet), had a chai here, a pedicure there, dropped my laundry and got my bag repaired.
And at the end of the day I had a nice dinner at a vegetarian restaurant, asking the waiter for recommendation (as none of the names on the menu sound familiar) and ended up with some nicely spiced potato dish and naan.
Oh what a lovely day!
(Sorry for all the visual people I haven't taken one single picture yet... too busy exploring ;-)
I am by myself now, because John had to go back to London. Farewells are never nice and especially not when you depart from your loved one to travel dodgy countries all alone. But everybody should follow their own dreams and not someone else's, so this is what we had decided. Sounds mature and makes sense, but there were tears involved and sweet promises...
Arriving at 3:30 a.m. didn't give me the opportunity to have a first impression of India, the next morning (well, actually the same morning) I had some lentil-dish for breakfast and bumbled around in my room as the aggressive street noise from outside the hotel intimidated me. But I had several tasks to do, so I forced myself out in the damp heat, trying to find shops for phone charger, copying documents, passport photos etc. And I was successful! :-)
In my favour: a) everybody talks English (sometimes hard to understand, but I get there), b) everybody is very helpful, they would tell me where to find what if their shop doesn't have it and c) everything is available somewhere. You might think the shop which does photos could photocopy something or the shop that photocopies might have some stationery... very wrong! A shop is mostly a 2x2m stall and very specialized. Once owns a copy machine so he does photocopies only. another one owns a camera, so he can take your picture and so on. So I was running circles, but was lucky to find everything eventually.
I even made my way to the nearby train station of my hotel neighborhood, bought myself a train ticket 1st class to downtown and jumped on the next train after I had to ask someone if it was the right direction... The train doors always stay open and it barely stops at the stations, just slow enough for people to hop on and off. It took about 30 minutes to the last stop and we were mainly passing slums. But thanks to 3 months in Africa I wasn't shocked by the dirt and the poverty anymore. I saw people chucking waste out of their window on the 2nd floor, which landed on a huge pile under that window. I wondered how they can live with that, the smell, the ugliness and not feel guilty... but then again... as there is no such thing as a communal waste collection the city should feel guilty, shouldn't it?
Somewhere on that drive sandwiched between many people, but luckily standing close to the door to catch some breeze I realized that I was surrounded only by men. It took me a while to find that out, because nobody behaved as if it was unusual me in that coach. But it was! All women and children ride on the ladies coach, I had read about it but totally forgotten. And then I realized that I had bought first class tickets but was now standing in "normal" class... Anyway, I enjoyed the ride until the heat took its toll and I had to sit down on the floor in order not to faint...
I got out at the famous Victoria Station (for tourists, for locals Chhatrapati Shivaji Terminus) and walked around something that was considered the tourist area. And only here I was harassed again by touts, street sellers and beggars, so I didn't enjoy it that much. I couldn't even find anything interesting about the "gateway to India" an undecorated, dull gate at the harbor. No, Mumbai's beauty doesn't come from architectural sights.
After several hours walking around, trying to survive the traffic, seeing everything but without looking at anything (to not attract anybody), sipping a freshly squeezed pineapple juice I made my way home with all the commuters after work, but this time sitting in the ladies coach (no 1st class though).
And then at dusk back in my neighborhood (called Khar West btw) looking back at my day I started to enjoy myself totally. Despite the warnings from my guidebook (saying "Be prepared to be stared at; it's something you'll have to live with so don't allow it to get the better of you"), nobody neither men nor women is giving me a second look. It is by far less conspicuous to walk around without a man on my side than it was in Africa. Everybody is friendly and not importunate. Maybe it's specially Mumbai, I'm sure in the rural areas they still stare at Westerners, maybe it's because I wear my hair in a bun, big sunglasses and harem pants, but here I feel very comfortable.
I collected some of the most astonishing contrasts that I came across:
- I think everybody has heard of the cows roaming the streets in the middle of the city, but seeing it myself that in an area which couldn't be further away from grass and meadows the cows walk around with a rope around their neck eating rubbish and dropping poo still surprised me. And amazing how patient everybody on the streets is with them whereas they would honk at every pedestrian, turning traffic or red light. Speaking of honking, it is a never ending, omnipresent sound on the road (and in front of my hotel). They honk to warn other cars/tuks tuks/biker/pedestrians, tuktuks honk to attract customers, they honk if traffic is slow even when it's due to a red light, they honk to greet each other, or just for fun and to annoy me... but they would never honk at a cow!
- So the cows are fat (god knows from what they can only eat rubbish here) but the dogs are skinny, even the ones who have owners.
- Old women wear Saris which show a good part of the belly but you would get shocked looks if you flash your knees.
- All women are either dressed in Sari (short top, long skirt and a shawl draped around the body) or salwar kameez (long trousers and tunic blouse) in the most amazing colours! All parts are always perfectly matching with each other and with the jewellery they wear. Even the poorest women in the slums wear good clean clothes, look very neat, have their hair done... But the streets are SO dirty, far away from neat! Not only in the slums, everywhere you have to watch your feet in order not to step in some poo, mud, hole, or stumble over something. Rubbish is kept on the streets everywhere, everything is dusty, sticky and smelly. How can they look after themselves but not after their neighborhood?
- On a street stall serving fruit juices you would get a handle glass with your drink, so you have to finish it on the spot, but when you are in a shop or beauty salon they would serve you chai in a plastic cup...
- Food is either very hot or very, very sweet. They is no such thing as "slighlty sweetened" or "mildly spiced", it's all or nothing. My dear tastebuds will have to deal with it.
- For 20 minutes internet and some print-outs I spent 480INR (ca 5.60EUR), but for 2 veggie samosas and sauce only 20INR (0.23EUR)
The list will be continued I'm sure :-)
On my second day in Mumbai I was busy in my neighborhood. I had to organize a few things and ended up walking around aimlessly for 4 hours. A turn here, an interesting looking shop there and I came further and further away from the hotel. The Khar West suburb seems to be a richer one even though not comparable to western standards rich. A branch of the university is situated here, so I saw many young women in western clothes. The traffic of course is crazy as usual. Everytime I have to cross a street, no matter how small, I am grateful to have survived. You just cannot oversee from where the next vehicle might come, so you just run and hope for the best. But other than this I enjoyed myself a lot. I got my pictures taken, screened several shops for a salwar kameez for myself (unsuccessfully, yet), had a chai here, a pedicure there, dropped my laundry and got my bag repaired.
And at the end of the day I had a nice dinner at a vegetarian restaurant, asking the waiter for recommendation (as none of the names on the menu sound familiar) and ended up with some nicely spiced potato dish and naan.
Oh what a lovely day!
(Sorry for all the visual people I haven't taken one single picture yet... too busy exploring ;-)
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