Mumbai
Sunday, November 22nd, 2009
We love it here. We can’t stop thinking about David and Michelle. This is their kind of town. Our hotel–the JW Marriott–is beyond fabulous. We spend the first day hanging out by the pool, using the Internet, and walking on the beach (where I wasn’t allowed to go out in my bikini). I also started to implement the strategy of trying to take pictures of those who photograph me.
We spent the day the chilling out, visiting the spa, and getting excited over the hot recommended club that the young guy who checked us in suggested. He told us, it is where the Bollywood stars and cricketers hang out and it is called Aurus. We decided to have dinner there to avoid line ups and ensure we got a table. The place was very cool. There were quite a few expats and tourists (please read fellow white people). We had a good, but very salty dinner. We were given a comment cards which we wrote how salty the food was (both our starters and our entrees) and of course the chef came over to discuss. The place reminds me of “Lobby”. Who ever said that Indian food was cheap was probably eating off the street from vendors. Since we don’t want to get sick, we are eating in restos only, but the food has not been half as cheap as other southern Asian countries. We have a really fun night. We called it and went back to the hotel where the security is even tighter in Mumbai (formerly known as Bombay) than in the south.
The next morning was early. We had a ton of things to see in Mumbai. The guide picked us up at 8 am. Mumbai is a city of extremes. You have a gorgeous high-rise with a shanty around the corner. The streets are a little more organized because in the downtown area there are no tuk tuks. They aren’t allowed in the city core.
We started off the day with a boat trip to Elephanta Island, another UNESCO heritage site. We boarded a boat at the Gateway to India (I can’t stop taking pictures) and the Taj hotel (the site of the terrorist attacks on November 26, 2008) and were on the boat for an hour. Once we arrived, we climbed the 400 stairs to arrive at the granite temple. When the Portuguese discovered the temple (and said Elephanta because there were 2 stone elephants at the entrance) they began to use Elephanta as housing for the army which in turn, the soldiers considered the sculptures as part of their shooting range. Many of the statues are still intact despite missing some limbs and were very impressive to say the least.
We took the boat back and had our best food in India at a resto called Khyber. Excellent.
Then we walked to the Royal Albert Museum (now with a new Indian 35 letter name which I didn’t even take the time to try and learn). We spent most of our time in the natural history section, the miniature paintings, and examined the collection of snuff boxes (which we bought in China). The museum was a really beautiful space.
We then went to a Jain temple where a wedding was taking place. Jains don’t believe in harming anything–not a fly or an ant. They are strict vegetarians who don’t eat root vegetables because to harvest these vegetables (which include potatoes, carrots, turnips, tapioca… ) it disrupts the insect life. Our guide explained that since there are so few Jains left, they often marry their first cousins and have a host of birth defects. Jains are considered the wealthiest of Indians. They are limited in profession choices due to their strict practices and therefore primarily trade precious stones and are the money lenders.
We drove by Parsi burial grounds, which are strictly guarded. Parsis (one of their most famous followers was Freddie Mercury) don’t believe in any sort of burial for their dead. When a Parsi follower dies, their body is taken to this superficially designated area, and left–uncovered, un-buried, just left. They know that when they die they will be eventually eaten by vultures. I think this would be illegal in Canada…
We went to the children’s park which was full of sculptures. My favorite was a big boot from the nursery rhyme “The old lady who lived in a shoe’. Across the road was another park full of animal topiaries. Our guide informed us that there is a 200 Rupee fine for anything other than holding hands. Every time Marc kisses or hugs me in public, we can’t help but say–200.
We made a quick stop at the stunning Victoria Train Station. It was the one featured at the end of “Slum Dog Millionaire”. It was huge and fantastic. An absolutely stunning building. A British architect designed it, but local craftsmen built it. We asked–there never has been a strike.
The trains are packed. Almost a million people commute by train every day. The trains are so packed that there is no room for the lunch boxes and there are ladies only cars. These cars help avoid a woman secretly getting groped in such a cramped place.
Dabbawalla is the lunch box system that is studied at schools of management and is the focus of a documentary. In a nutshell, here is what happens. Workers take a fully packed train into the city (there is no room for their food). Later that morning after their wives or female family members (mother, mother-in-law, sisters, aunt, etc). prepare food which is going to be lunch, the boxes are picked up from their homes and delivered to their respective offices promptly at 1 pm for lunch. There is no tagging system. There is no paper work. It wouldn’t seem like such a big deal unless you know that there are 200 thousand lunch boxes taking part of this system–daily.
While driving we asked if we could pull over to see the convocation hall of the University of Mumbai. It was stunning. Just gorgeous. Again, British architect, local craftsmen.
We made a stop at the Gandhi museum located in an old house. The home was owned by one of his good friends and Gandhi regularly resided there when he was in Mumbai (then it was Bombay). The museum hosted a massive library (with books either on Gandhi or books that he had actually read) and a collection of his letters including one to Hitler. There was also the room that was his glassed off. They had preserved Gandhi’s loom (he wove all his own clothes), a pair of sandals, and the actual bed he slept on. One of the best things about the museum was that a room was dedicated to the life story of Gandhi. Dolls (sort of Barbie-ish) told the story of Gandhi’s life from childhood, his education in the UK, getting thrown off a train in South Africa (with a valid 1st class ticket), his arrests, his hunger strikes, his accomplishments, and finally his murder. This put everything in perspective for me and we have added the film “Gandhi” to the list of movies we will watch on our return.
I really wanted to see the communal laundry, again like the Dabbawalla we couldn’t get over the organization. Since Mumbai is regularly on water rations and very few homes have washing machines, the communal laundry service is used. Laundry is picked up. It is sorted by colors–whites, darks, colors, saris and then it is washed, hung to dry, ironed, folded and returned to the owner in 2 days–with no mistakes. Really? It seems like such a huge undertaking by a country who can’t begin to control traffic or their animal population but actually seems to be a system that is working.
We drive along the queens necklace for the second time today. It really is a stunning drive along the water, all lit up. We sadly say good-bye to our tour guide who was the best we had so far without question, and make our way back to the hotel to get ready for our flight the following day.
The next morning we have breakfast, then spend our last few hours by the sexy pool. Golden triangle next!
Mumbai University…
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