Communication Challenges

​My sister was always the barber in the family. She would sit John down in the kitchen and work her magic. Ever since she died, he’s been resistant to getting haircuts. 

In the tiny village where we were staying, he decided to be spontaneous at the “strong” encouragement of a local barber. 

So away we were swept to his “shop” and he began his “magic”. The haircut went pretty well and he said “just little” about John’s beard. We both said, “Yes, just a trim”. 

Unfortunately, a little is a lot in marachi (his native tongue) and more unfortunately, he managed to shave off half of John’s face before we could course correct. 

I love John’s beard and I will miss it for the next few weeks, but there’s no turning back once half the beard is gone. 

I only wish my sister was alive to laugh with us.

So Many Men

​At the risk of sounding sexist, I have to speak to the disproportion of men to women here on the streets of Mumbai. As a woman, I noticed the challenge of making connections out on our stroll in search of Aram Vada Pav, a street food vendor, in Fort, near Colaba. 

Being “from away” only adds to the challenge as I desperately grab John’s hand whenever we need to cross the street. I fear for our lives with every attempt at crossing. 

The best practice has been to walk closely to a clearly confident person crossing over. If only a video could capture the fear in my eyes upon each cross. 

But also, being “from away” makes us a bit of a curiosity to others. I’m aware of being stared at. But I’m not sure why. When I do make visual contact with one of the occasional women I see, I feel an interesting sense of connection. I also feel an admiration at her courage to navigate this overwhelming city so independently. 

When we arrived at Aram Vada Pav, there was a huge crowd all ordering the delicious potato sandwiches. When I looked at the menu, it was completely written in Hindi. I had no idea how to order, or what to order or how to pay.

Finally, I asked the “one woman” in the crowd if she spoke English and, of course, she did. “Can you please help us order?” She proceeded to order, help us pay and give us perfect instructions on how to collect our treats. Without her, the experience would have been daunting. 

Cheers for the smart, brave and confident women of Mumbai! 

Mumbai … please!

​When John said he really wanted to go to India, my first thought was “it’s so far and so long”. Now that I’m on the bus heading to Boston, I’m just praying the BLIZZARD doesn’t interfere. 

But I’m ready. I WANT to go to India. It’s been a hard year for so many reasons and I’m looking forward to the enthusiasm of Indian folks. The sheer joy of the moment. 

Our flight couldn’t have gone any better! We had any empty seat between us on BOTH legs of our flight. Arrivals were ahead of schedule.

Stepping out into the rank fumes of Mumbai was somehow reassuringly familiar. I’ve come a long way from that first visit to Mumbai nearly 10 years ago when I holed up in my hotel room and cried for two days! Yes. Arrival in Mumbai felt nostalgic and welcoming. 

We are staying in Colaba for two days and a quick stroll turned up our old friend Shankar. He is a cobbler with a small business out on the road. His vibrant smile and joyful gratitude first attracted our attention ten years ago and we have been keeping in touch over the years. During this visit we look forward to meeting his wife and seven children!

I woke up at 5:30 am (wide awake) thanks to the absolutely bizarre experience of flying across the world. But the schedule was on our side having arrived in Mumbai at night. 

My goal for the day is to have Vada Pav and check out if this incredible kabob spot is still around later tonight.