Namaste

It’s my 4th morning watching the sunrise in Bombay, India, and I have to admit, this city has beaten me to it consistently. I’m not certain if my unusually early wake in this city is because of the jet lag, from being 12 hours ahead of the US, or from my excitement for what each day has to bring out here. Unlike the people on the street, I'm fortunate not to have routine to stick to, but on the other hand, I’m not the one trying to get by in a once exploited third world country soon becoming one of the top global nations of commerce.

Even at 7 am you hear the traffic starting to develop, and car horns honking and motorcycle engines purring. There aren’t any defined traffic rules here, and a lot of the cars don’t have side mirrors, since they will often pack a 2 lane road with 5 vehicles wide, scratching the sides of cars and breaking of mirrors. Drivers depend on sounds of horns to let them know if they are getting passed. Crossing the road in traffic is also an experience, as you just walk and hope that the car will stop like it has every time before. If you don’t, then you will be standing for quite along time. oh, and the cars don't usually have brake lights or anything like that either, because the taxi drivers think things like that will use more of their fuel in the cars.

These people will find each and every way to make a buck in this city, and are quite successful at it. Even the street venders, selling pirated DVD’s and Rolex’s are incredibly street smart, watching and observing each of the thousands of people that walk by every few minutes, and approaching the ones most likely to buy their ripped of, inferior products. Once contact is made, it goes straight to bargaining, which I find ridiculously hilarious. So much theatrics and emotions go into this part of the interaction, yelling and walking away, coming back, throwing arms in the air, it’s really peculiar to watch. And the amount bargained for, could be converted into a mere US$.50 cents. It’s just how things are done over here; even my ailing 75 year old grandma will do this to the venders that come to sell her stuff in her flat. She screams at them, threatens to get up and whack them, even though she can hardly stand, all for a few extra shrimps for the same price. You gotta be tough to survive in this city.

At the very micro level of my experience so far here, I am touched by the humbleness and sincerity of the people I have been with over here. They are generous beyond belief with the few possessions they have. (This is ironic considering the bargaining that they do otherwise) They are willing to accommodate up to 20 people, in these little 1 bedroom apartments. I have been honored to sleep on the floor in these peoples homes; they treat their guests like royalty with what they have to offer. My Aunt made crabs the other day for dinner, and I was having a tough time eating them, because of the shells, and my younger cousin cleaned all her crabs from the shells and gave it to me upon seeing me struggle. They are very affectionate people. We all walked this same cousin to her school, which is an all girl’s catholic school where they have to wear uniforms and wear their hair in pigtails. Even though I did everything possible to embarrass her in front of her school friends, in which I would have run away red in the face at her age, she was so proud to have me there.

To take a bath in these homes like my grandmother's who I call Nana, you have to boil a pot of hot water, put it in a bucket, fill up the rest with cold water from the tap, and use a mug to wash yourselves in a tiny bathroom with no bath or shower curtain. Each person gets a limited amount of water, and must be very conservative in using it. When you go to the "chemist" (which is like a convenient store) and order a coke, a little boy will follow you around until you finish the drink, to collect the bottle and bring it back to the store to get the deposit for it. When you eat out in a restaurant, or buy clothes in a store, there are 5 people serving you during your visit.

The wedding is in only a few days, and today is the "Rose" which is a pre-wedding tradition for both sides of the family. We poor coconut milk and break eggs on the bride and maid of honor, and sing and dance all night to festive songs here. I am learning how to jive and swing dance, so I won’t look like an idiot at the wedding, which unfortunately has happened a few times at parties here so far I fear. Even when you amongst family here, in a small living room, these people will get up, put there favorite songs on, and start dancing, jiving, singing and enjoying life. It’s a totally different experience than I’m used to, and am damn glad I’ve been exposed to it. Its now time for breakfast, since the bread man has just arrived. Still much more to talk about.