Tuesday

We started the day with a rickshaw ride to work. It is still an interesting experience to flag down a riskshaw and get him to take you to where you want. For a reason that completely escapes me so many just say no. We thought maybe it was just us, but apparently that is the norm. Hetal told us that technically it is against the law to refuse a fare, but that won’t change anything. Fortunately for us, rickshaw no. 10 was our lucky number and we got a ride to work. It didn’t take anywhere near as long as we had anticipated so we arrived half an hour early. Under normal circumstances, arriving early at your workplace would be a good thing, but when that means that you are the only two white females standing around in front of the Golibar slum, it could be a little nerve wrecking. I decided to wait at a bus stop where I just felt a little safer instead of right in front of the office. After half an hour of witnessing the morning routines of lower class Mumbai, Hasina-gi arrived and we were let in.
We enjoyed about an hour with Hasina-gi before Hetal arrived and I truly enjoyed how the language includes so many English words and yet it really doesn’t help me much in understanding the other 80% of what is said. But, with hands, feet, pen and paper we made due and exchanged some family pictures.
During the afternoon we got to visit a Children’s Center. It still hasn’t failed to amaze me how the simple fact of having your picture taken can amuse the kids so much. So many things about India are still a marvel to me. I think I have come over the initial absolute heart wrenching feeling that literally made me cry at night from seeing the incredible poverty of so many but I will never be able to accept it. You have to really guard yourself or you will be absorbed by the misery like a fungus absorbs its food, and to what avail? The fungus grew. Instead you must find the more difficult balance between remaining strong and at the same time caring. Turn the heart ache into productive ideas, such as the organization I am interning for.
After work, Hetal took us to Bandra and bought some really cute slippers. Bandra is the posher area of Mumbai and we could clearly tell the difference.
The day ended with another rickshaw ride home and our usual ½ minute shower so we can hurry up and email our families.
God is truly good to me.

Monsoon

The monsoon has started. It is funny how it gradually works its way up. In SantaCruz, where we will be working, it started about a week ago. Here at our apartment, we just got our first rain yesterday. Monsoon is kind of a blessing. When it rains, it cools and cleans the incredibly poluted air for a few precious minutes. The flipside of the coin is that it just warms up again and actually gets even more humid.

First day at work

So, I survived my first day in the Golibar slum! And it wasn’t even bad at all. Granted, I only visited, but still, it was much better than I had imagined. Let me start from the beginning.

This morning Hetal, the Assistant Director from MarketPlace India Mumbai, picked us up and we took a rickshaw to work. Riding a rickshaw is an experience everybody should try. It is basically a covered moped with a seat that fits three, preferably two, but as with everything else in Mumbai more likely 6. We have regularly seen families of 6 with very small children riding 50km per hour and don’t even start thinking about a car seat! To this moment I still have no idea why we were not crushed in the insane traffic, but as I mentioned before, the chaos of Mumbai has a rhythm and it somehow just works. Our destination was the edge of the Golibar slum. The slum is divided up into colonies and The MarketPlace India Mumbai is at the edge of the Maratha colony.

We stopped in front of a tiny office under ground level. Once the steel gate in front of the paddle locked door was opened, we stepped down over ½ yard. There, we were greeted by Hasina. Because she is older, one addresses her with the respectful addition of –gi, so in this case Hasina-gi. Both Hetal and Hasina-gi are phenomenal people and we felt so welcome. We had a great conversation and Hetal explained in just a few hours so many things we desperately had tried to understand. I was so super excited to hear that we actually have a internship with somewhat of a structure. Anyway, soon afterwards Hetal thought it would be a good time to meet some of the people who are affiliated with The Market Place. So, we put our shoes on and left. Right outside the office was a tiny alley that allowed entrance to Golibar. Hanna and I were braced for unbelievable sights and smells we had encountered the other days, but to our surprise were met with neither. Yes, it is incredibly poor. The tiny alleys lead you down rows of approximately 9x9 feet rooms of which one is the entire living quarter for families. But, I was amazed how well the people functioned with the incredibly little they had. Again, don’t misunderstand me and think this should be your next family vacation spot, it is most definitely not a suitable place for anybody! But considering it is all they can afford, they have been able to create a community that somehow succeeds to function. It is kind of a hidden community within a buzzing city. I noticed door decorations, plants, “village squares”, and benches. I also noticed the open sewer, naked children, and a look in their eyes I at this point do not know to describe. They are able to create joy and yet so disappointed. I later found out that the Maratha colony is the posh of the slums.

We visited one of the producer groups (sewing groups) and saw how they had combined three rooms (two back to back and one on top joined with a ladder) into their place for a livelihood. Every person in the group is trained in a specific task and is that group’s expert. This is Jokhim, who is one of the few males associated with this project and he is the expert on interlocking. We also visited a new project The MarketPlace India has just started and I truly enjoyed seeing this unusual interlock machine.

We then went for lunch, again using a rickshaw. Indians make a huge point in eating together. Hetal mentioned that nobody sits alone and eats, so we ordered a super delicious grilled spinach-cheese-corn sandwich and headed back to the office. It was indeed delicious, but my stomach could bare fit one slice. We have eaten so little over the past days that a whole sandwich was just too much. I noticed in general how much less the others eat too. Hasina-gi brought her own lunch which consisted of a tiny bowl of chicken curry and some pieces of bread. She tried really hard to share it too.

At the end of the day, we took a rickshaw back and enjoyed our ½ minute shower. I am getting pretty good at it by now. Amazing with how much less you can learn to do with, including an Indian toilet, but I will leave it at that.

This day was truly one of extremes, so fitting for India! After the washing machine had broken, the landlord sent his caretaker. The caretaker does not speak English. Not a word. In fact, he doesn’t even speak any form of creative communication methods, instead just smiles and nods his head to everything I say. I tried my best to communicate that the machine had broken, spewed out black smoke and dumped nearly all the water on our kitchen floor, using every visual aid I could think of but he just nodded and continued to try to figure out why the machine wouldn’t start. I pointed to the fact that I had unplugged it from the wall and for the first time I did not get a nod but instead a frown! Anyway, he finally reached the brilliant conclusion that the machine was broken and they would replace it today. By the time we came home, dirty from a long, exhausting day, the machine was still there and had dumped even more water on the floor! Time in India is a unique concept. It basically means whenever. Maybe.

We quickly made our daily water run and then headed out to see some other areas of Mumbai. Hanna had found a neat walking route south of Mumbai that included the Gateway of India, something I have longed to see since I was little. We decided to take a taxi and negotiated a set price before entering the cab. A little over an hour later, we reached the beautiful structure, built from 1913 to 1924 to commemorate King George V’s visit to India in 1911. Behind the gate, steps lead into the Arabian Sea, in front a long road or ramp was supposed to lead up to it but was never built due to lack of funding. So, it kind of just sits there. Nevertheless, it is as spectacular as I always imagined it to be! Right across from The Gateway of India stands the beautiful Taj Mahal Palace Hotel.

We started walking down the street and noticed boys jumping into the dirty waters of the Arabian Sea. As we continued the walk, we became increasingly aware of people staring at us and taking pictures of us. This continued the whole day, creating a sense of anxiety as we navigated our way through the streets. Nevertheless, we still immensely enjoyed the beautiful walk and managed to find some block printing blocks along the road.

Mumbai has some phenomenal architecture, including the famous High Court, built in 1962. After walking 3.5 miles in sweltering heat and humidity, we decided to call it quits for the day and to return to the apartment. Opposite the High Court was a long row of taxis, just waiting for fares. We must have asked every one of the drivers if they knew the address to our apartment and all, except two, said no. We went ahead and chose one of the drivers, negotiated the fee and got in for a ride we will not soon forget!!

At first all seemed well, and we seemed to be heading in the right direction until he suddenly turned left and headed down a back street leading to slum area. Hanna and I were at this point pretty worried and it turned out he needed to stop for gas. We were asked to step out of the car while they filled the tank and we waited a few very nerve wrecking minutes until we could return to the vehicle. Then we continued on what turned out to be a 2.5 hour long trip constantly stopping because the driver did not know the way after all! Every time he stopped, Hanna and I were captive subjects of extreme curiosity of everybody around us. Every time he stopped, I wondered if we were about to be dumped somewhere in Mumbai. When we finally arrived, the driver had the nerve to ask for more money because it had taken so long. Needless to say, we only gave him the agreed amount and quickly left the cab.

The drive home was however so intense. The poverty in India in unbelievable and people live under such incredible circumstances! I saw plastic sheets spread over the side walk which housed a family with kids and a pile of trash which turned out to be someone’s home. I witnessed a man sitting on a broken chair with rags around his arm while blood had soaked through the dirty rags. Kids, naked, playing in the dirty gutters. And the smell is indescribable and never ends! And yet, in the midst of all this ugliness and filth, everybody is cleaning their floors with a handheld broom. Such irony and pointlessness and yet apparently also so important.

Constantly, we were faced with hundreds, thousands, of people living in ways beyond the wildest imagination, begging and trying to survive another day by any means they can. And right next to the worst of the worst are beautiful new buildings ready to house the fortunate.

By the time we reached the apartment, the intense ride home and the heat had taken its toll and we had to work hard on picking ourselves up emotionally so we would be prepared for tomorrow morning. Tomorrow morning we do not drive by any more, we enter this world.

Day one

After last night’s emotion reality check, we decided to super scrub this apartment and turn it into our haven. Mumbai can be overwhelming and will eat you up if you let it, so we needed a place to retreat. We also desperately needed water and food! After last night’s ride through the neighborhood we were a little (ok, a lot) apprehensive about venturing out but we knew we had to, so out we went. But, first we needed to accomplish a very important task: we needed internet! It was hard to be in Mumbai and not be able to let anybody know we had arrived safely and just stay in touch with our families.

I cannot tell you how wonderful it was to see the word “connected”! And then to be able to email. We sent out some quick emails and then went hunting for a grocery store. You need to picture the setting: it is very hot, very humid, very loud, very crowded, very smelly, very dirty, very unfamiliar, very surreal! The streets are just filled with litter and “debris”, open sewer, dogs, cars, riskshaws, busses, and anything else you can just imagine. The car horns honk 24 hours a day! People just stared at us as if we were aliens. I suppose in a way we are, but I would have expected that in Mumbai two white women wouldn’t be that much of a novelty.

Hanna had spotted a mall from our apartment window that looked like it was within walking distance. We got there and found no stores! In fact, even the security guard said there was nothing. Last minute our eyes caught something in the basement and won’t you believe it was a food mart! Since it wasn’t open yet, we went to walk around a little but soon found ourselves in a neighborhood that didn’t quite feel right. We headed back to the “mall” and found a McDonalds in there (so much for nothing having anything). I am not a huge McDonalds fan but this morning I sure appreciated a place to sit and cool of and have a coke. We had still not had anything to eat and way too little to drink and it was taking its toll.

The food mart offered so much of the things we needed! I have always appreciated the ease we have in the US to obtain basic necessities, but never have I felt so elated to find water and some basic staples! We noticed everybody staring at us, but were very friendly when we asked for help. Of course, I had to make sure we had some basic spices and found the new words for simple things.

We made our way back to the apartment with heavy, heavy grocery bags! Ladies, next time you drive up to the drive-up at the supermarket, send us a kind thought. It is murder to walk about a mile in this incredible heat with heavy bags, dodging insane traffic, disgusting trash, and huge open manholes in preparation for the monsoon. Back in the apartment, we rolled up the sleeves and pant legs and SCRUBBED for 3 hours! Then, a well deserved shower, except there is only enough water for about two 1-minute showers and a load of dishes per day. Nevertheless, by the time we were done and had cooked some plain noodles with tomato sauce, we felt like queens and it wasn’t long after before we both fell asleep for a long overdue rest.

Our surroundings are incredibly grey and can easily get depressing if you let it get to you. So we decided tomorrow to head out and try and see some other places south of Mumbai. I think it would be really good so see some colors.

Today, we feel we succeeded. That is an amazing feeling.

Morning, first day

My alarm went off early so I can get used to Mumbai time. I only got two hours but I am not sleepy. We have challenges today that are huge and must be overcome if this trip is going to be a success.

The apartment is hot and muggy. Air conditioning is only in the bedroom and minimal, but that is not my main concern. Today we must show ourselves that we can get around Mumbai independently, shop for essentials and turn this place into a haven for us.
As daylight clears, I notice heavy dark clouds. Mumbai is waiting for the monsoon to start and last night our landlord was ecstatic when a few sprinkles hit the windshield. I hope it will hold off a few more days until we have been able to get around a little. The streets tend to flood.

Hanna and I have been concerned about getting dehydrated. We did not drink adequately on the plane rides and the bottled water we had requested in the apartment was not from a sealed container. We must today find enough water to replenish.
It is only 6:30. It is very hot and Mumbai is already buzzing.

21D

21D is a tiny seat, scrunched in between many other seats on a 9 hour flight from Amsterdam to Mumbai!! I cannot stretch my legs because the space under the chair in front of me is blocked, I am squished like a sardine in a can between very friendly people, and at this point of the trip, I really wish I could just stretch out a bit and sleep.

Whoever decided that paying $1500 for an air fare to Mumbai should not cover basic needs such as sufficient leg space, obviously does not fly coach or is only 4 feet tall, weighing 80 pounds. Maybe they figured I might as well get used to being cramped for space. Hm.

Oh well. We arrived well in Amsterdam from Minneapolis early this morning and had the chance to walk a little before beginning another 9 hour flight. It was interesting to be in Amsterdam again and hear the language I for years considered my primary language. We had hoped to buy some chocolate (every girl’s emergency item) but decided that we really did not need that mega box for the mega price. Instead, we spent a few Euros on buying 30 minutes of Internet and got to send our families an email. That felt so incredibly good!

As we sat at the Internet café I observed the people walking through the airport. It is still my favorite pass time activity and I noticed how much the wardrobe had change. I could have been in Minneapolis airport, as far as appearances would tell me. Granted, we were in the international terminal at 6:30 am, so many of the people there probably were not Dutch.

After the well needed internet break we returned to our gate to find a long line of people slowly admitted to a separate security area. Hanna and I also enjoyed the extra security stop and were asked questions we never even thought about. “How long have you known each other”. This might seem an easy question when you are fully awake, but early in the morning in a foreign airport after a long flight, this actually is a hard question. “ Ehh…..well, since Dr. Lyons’ Ready-to-Wear Analysis class.” Anyway, the guy was really friendly and we were permitted to go to the metal detectors. There we were both frisked. For all who know me, you are at this point already laughing. While the hands of a total stranger examined just about every part of my body I focused mentally on the greater good and endured the half minute it took.

I have to tell you that at this point fatigue was really hitting hard but as we sat and waited to board the plane it also started hitting us really hard that from here on we would most certainly be the minority on just about every level. We also found out that we had not been seated together. That is how I ended up squished into 21D and Hanna smooshed into 30J.

As I sat there feeling a little sorry for myself I learned that Indians are immensely friendly and helpful. I started talking to a lady next to me, Priya, who explained so many things about the food I was eating, what we should wear and why, places to go and what to watch out for, and so forth. Hanna and I had already noticed the predominant dress codes of the different generations amongst Indians. The older will wear traditional clothing, if needed accessorized with tennis shoes and a crocheted or knitted sweater that not necessarily matches anything else. The younger generations are far more westernized in their appearance and then there is the middle group that has a leg in each culture. They will wear modernized clothing but with clear elements of the traditional Indian wardrobe, such as certain colors, prints or shoes. Yet another lady on plane also gave us plenty insight into Mumbai and how quickly it has become westernized over the past few years. I guess I am about to find out in approximately 3 hours.