No matter how much I think it will be different, Mumbai still beats the shit out of me. First time I holed up and cried and wouldn't leave my room for two days. Second time, I just flew into Cochin instead. This time I thought I could take it. I was wrong.
I'm primarily overtaken by the sensory overload.
First and foremost there is a constant acrid smell. I was walking by the ritziest hotel in Mumbai and I'm overtaken by the smell of raw sewage. I'm in my hotel room and the acrid scent of burning trash wafts into my window and it's relentless. We go to a rooftop restaurant to "get away" from it all, but the smells rise and the gasoline and diesel is particularly strong. It literally hurts to breathe.
Then there is the constant presence of noise horns constantly honking. Engines rumbling. At night the black crows caw without stop.
Then there are all the humans. So many of them. The men stare for unusually long periods of time. And there are so many men! I welcome the occasional and friendly gaze of a woman.
I'm primarily overtaken by the sensory overload.
First and foremost there is a constant acrid smell. I was walking by the ritziest hotel in Mumbai and I'm overtaken by the smell of raw sewage. I'm in my hotel room and the acrid scent of burning trash wafts into my window and it's relentless. We go to a rooftop restaurant to "get away" from it all, but the smells rise and the gasoline and diesel is particularly strong. It literally hurts to breathe.
Then there is the constant presence of noise horns constantly honking. Engines rumbling. At night the black crows caw without stop.
Then there are all the humans. So many of them. The men stare for unusually long periods of time. And there are so many men! I welcome the occasional and friendly gaze of a woman.
And there is the constant presence of want. Desperate want! Relentless and desperate need.
Then...of course...there is me with all the stories in my head. The narratives that exacerbate each decision I make. Each look has meaning that I'm inventing.
My body hurts too, because I'm stiff and out of shape and I'm climbing steps and lugging backpacks and walking a lot. And the emotional stress of it all is complicating it even further.
Then there is the JET LAG. Exhausted in the day and waking up at 3 AM, wide awake..
And just when I think I've had enough and I'm ready to leave this horrifying place...
Then...of course...there is me with all the stories in my head. The narratives that exacerbate each decision I make. Each look has meaning that I'm inventing.
My body hurts too, because I'm stiff and out of shape and I'm climbing steps and lugging backpacks and walking a lot. And the emotional stress of it all is complicating it even further.
Then there is the JET LAG. Exhausted in the day and waking up at 3 AM, wide awake..
And just when I think I've had enough and I'm ready to leave this horrifying place...
India happens. The refreshing exuberant nature of Indian people.
We decided to take the ferry out to Elephanta Island, which is just off the coast of Mumbai. It is very cool with amazing and ancient sculptures built into ancient caves. But the trip itself is even more refreshing and amazing. Floating across the ocean, the air is "almost" fresh. While we are on the ferry, we meet Indians on vacation. Their joy and enthusiasm is delightful and unique. Truly unlike anything I have ever come across in the US. They ask us the familiar, "Where from?" And the flood gate of questions, selfies, introductions suddenly opens. I meet a family from Hyderabad that wants to teach me Bollywood dance moves. And I say yes, so there I am, the fat American, wagging her hips to the joy of my instructors . Then I meet two Muslim girls who speak impeccable English and the conversation ends with "We are friends now?" And, of course, a selfie. And I suddenly feel as if I have found the answer to world peace.
The absence of boundaries is refreshing and exotic to me, just like my being an American seems exotic to them. It's all very ironic I guess.
Finally, the excitement dissipates with my inability to speak any Hindi other than what is your name and I settle in to watching the excited and innocent joy of laughter, dancing and feeding the flock of seagulls that fly alongside the boat and I realize at last I have arrived in Mumbai.
