Back to Bombay

I get to the train station in Hospet early and waited for it to arrive. I was the only foreigner there. I could feel the tens of eyes just staring at me but I just listened to my music and zoned out. I bordered the train to Guntakal, which is about 2 hours east of Hospet. I gazed out the window for the majority of the ride until one of the Indian guys started talking to me. He was an engineer from Bangalore and was traveling for business. He asked me all sort of questions about America, its politics, and engineering… of which I knew nothing about. But it was good conversation until I reached my transfer destination at Guntakal.

What does one do to kill 3.5 hours in a train station in the middle of nowhere? Read and eat of course! That’s what I did. I read my Newsweek magazine where I caught up on the riots that happened in England and read an article about Rafael Nadal. After enjoying some western reality, I went to the vegetarian restaurant in the station cause I knew I had to stock up on food for my 16 hour train to Mumbai. I ordered the only “meal” option on the menu for 35 rupees. It was a like a thali, but better cause you got 7 different options. It was surprisingly amazing. There was only one thing I didn’t like, and they offered refills. Score!

Mmmmm train station food is awesome!

The Indian railway employs more people than any company in the world. The vast system allows travel to any part of India for a super cheap price. This particular journey cost me $10. Because of its extensive use, it the seats get a lot of wear and tear. I got onto the train and found my bed, which was on the lowest level of the three. It is not the comfiest or cleanest, but it’ll do. What I wasn’t able to do was sleep. I am the type of sleeper who takes FOREVER to fall asleep, but when I do, I'm out like a light and don’t wake up till noon. Naturally, it was impossible for me to even fall asleep with the shaking and honking and unfamiliarity of the train. So I was sleepless the entire night. The most annoying part of it all was that I was next to 3 German ladies who all looked like they had an incredible nights sleep… bitches.

The morning rolled around and people are starting to wake up and exit the train while others jumped on board. As all trains in India, there are gentlemen walking up and down the aisle asking the passengers to buy whatever they’re selling. 95% of the time they yell in a high pitched voice, “Chai! Coffee!” Holy cow does that get annoying when you hear it literally every 5 seconds….

Everything was going smoothly until about 9am when the train stopped at an obscure station for about 30 minutes. The train never stops for more then 15 minutes so I knew something was up. Someone on the station’s loud speak announces in only Hindi, “The train has failed.” I have no idea what this means…. Did it break down? What is going on? How do I get to Mumbai? DAMMIT! Chaos starts in the middle of a downpour. We all have to exit the train (on the tracks) with our luggage and trek up on the rain to the platform. Fortunately, I tagged along with the German girls and we were able to figure out what happened. Apparently, Mumbai was flooded and they cancelled our train cause only a limited amount of trains could enter the station. OF COURSE THIS HAPPENS TO ME! But I suppose it wouldn’t be a proper Indian trip if something didn’t go awry.

So we wait another 45 minutes for another train to arrive at the platform. We

boarded an already full train to a place where I have no idea where it’s headed. Apparently we just take this train to some destination before hopping on a passenger train to Mumbai. I dunno what’s going on but I just do what I'm told. Dah!

            My original train was supposed to arrive in Mumbai at 1pm, but this other destination isn’t until 3pm and then we have to switch trains again. I pass time by listening to music and keeping a keen eye on my luggage on this jam packed train. All of a sudden the Germans say, “We need to exit now! Hurry!” I grab my stuff and run out and find the next train to jump onto for Mumbai. Such pandemonium but we figure it out.

          I have to sit in the top seat with my head pressed up against the ceiling for the next hour and a half before we get to Bombay… and it is coming down in buckets. Its now that I realize I am just glad I made it here at all! Its 5pm, 4 hours after my scheduled arrival time, making a grand total of 28 hours of travel. Yay? (I really am lucky to have made it to Mumbai at all. They cancelled the majority of the trains to a from the area, as well as flights to the city.)

Victoria terminus is an old colonial train station that is absolutely gorgeous, but I zero time to really appreciate the scenery because I look and smell ghastly. All I wanna do is shower. I immediately get a taxi and head straight to Shia’s apartment. It takes about 45 minutes because the monsoon traffic is so terrible.

I arrive at Shia’s and I am so relieved! Shia, her mom, and Michelle all greet me with some much needed hugs. I sit and we gossip for the next hour about our past week. Her servants brought me a snack… cheese toast with ketchup. Odd, but strangely good when under starving circumstances (I hadn’t eaten since last nights dinner at the train station).

I was told the previous night that I wouldn’t be able to stay with Shia for my last 2 nights in Mumbai. Consequently, Michelle and I looked up hotels to stay at in the Colaba Causeway district near the famous Taj Mahal hotel. We chose the Bentley Hotel, just off the Causeway. We arrived and checked into our spacious private room (a nice change of pace from staying in guesthouses for the past week and a half).

I desperately needed to shower. Not only for my sake, but also for everyone’s sake around me. But, it was about 7:30 and Michelle needed to get a cell phone (that was her goal for the last week and she never got one… typical Michelle. Lol) So we walked to a mobile store around the corner. While she arranged her new phone I drifted down the street to see the shops and get some gifts for some friends back home. I went into one shop that was selling bath products and he tried me to buy “down there” massage oil. I laughed and thought whom might I give that to back home? Ha-ha, just kidding.

I didn’t see much but a man who needed westerners for a post-production Bollywood movie tomorrow stopped me. I was like, hell ya! The movie, Ra-One, had already been filmed but they needed people to do voiceovers for a scene that was supposed to take place in the States. Unfortunately, they needed me and a bunch of others to meet at 9am and be there until 6pm. I politely declined just because it was my last day in Mumbai and I had a lot to do before I left. I wish I just had one more day so I could say I was in a Bollywood film!

I met back up with Michelle and we both decided we were exhausted and headed back up to the room. We showered and passed the sh!t out as we both hadn’t slept in days.

I woke up at 10 well rested. I had soaked my skivvies in some laundry detergent overnight (said I should only soak for 30 minutes but I wanted to be sure) that I needed to rinse and hang dry. Then I followed suit with my other dirty laundry. This was my first experience hand washing clothes…. I’m definitely a noob as one of my skirts bled orange all over my really cute new beige colored shirt. Dammit…
Michelle got a job working at a non profit organization in India so she now has to get up at 5am everyday to get to work at 6. She is moving at the end of the week to a small tribal village north of Maharashtra. There she will be teaching English (as she did when she was in the peace corps in Guyana) until December. Then it is up to her what she wants to do next. She came back from work at 11, just in time for breakfast complimentary of the hotel. I was expecting some eggs, toast, coffee, fruit or something but it was just rolls with packaged butter and marmalade and some tea. Dear Hotel Bentley, that’s not breakfast. Meanwhile, I finished doing laundry while Michelle passed out again.
I had to get ready for my lunch with Kushal at 2pm. Kushal is a work colleague of my dads friend, Don from back in LA. He works in computer software (or something like that) and Kushal does business for him in India. We met up at the Taj hotel but he was an hour late due to the traffic. What normally takes about 50 minutes, took him 2 hours to get to with all the monsoon congestion. He picked me up in his taxi and we went to a really nice vegetarian restaurant called Relish. I got the wasabi fried vegetables and a pasta salad. Totally hit the spot since all I had eaten in the past 2 days was cheese toast. We talked for a few hours about India and America. He is of the Jain religion, of which I new nothing about. It was really fascinating. We also talked about the class and education system in India, arranged marriages, poverty, immigrants, etc. It honestly was a conversation I was looking to have my whole trip in India. I really wanted a local perspective of these topics and I'm glad I am leaving the country with a better idea of what its all about.

We then walked to the Queens Necklace, a boardwalk along the bay that when lit up at night, looks like the queen’s necklace. It was late afternoon and there were plenty of people around just kickin it by the sea. Kushal mentioned that we were getting many strange looks from the locals. I told him, this is nothing new and if you are a blonde in India, you are bound to get stared at.  It obviously was a new experience for him. He then dropped me off at my hotel and we exchanged information. He was such a sweetheart and treated me to a great last day in the country. Hopefully we will be able meet up when I’m in Singapore, as he will be there during the same time.

The bay of the "Queens Necklace"

Me and Kushal

Michelle had just woken up from her nap when I got back. I suggested we go down to the Colaba Causeway again to find some last minute gifts for me and some last minute work clothes she will need for her village. I bought a few things just as the shops were closing and I even helped one guy try to sell a dancing baby toy. Though I was unsuccessful, everyone got a kick out of me hassling foreigners “Dancing baby. 50 rupees! Special deal! You like you buy, if no like, no buy. Ok ok, 40 rupees. You tell me price. Ok”

We didn’t was to retreat back to the hotel yet so we went to the famous Leopold’s café (Jamie and I went there on our first day in India) for some grub. I was still full from my late lunch (and I think all the fried veggies upset my stomach) so I got a caramel custard and Michelle munched on some cottage cheese tikka masala. After dinner we still didn’t want to leave and Leopold’s is famous for their pitchers of beer, which come in a huge tap that you can dispense yourself. Very cool. We were sipping on some beers when this Indian guy stumbles onto our table like Kramer from Seinfeld and give me a hang written note on a napkin. It states, “Can we hang out?! My name is  *&@^$&#* and here’s my number.” I was not interested but Michelle insisted that I respond anyways. I let her do the dirty work and she wrote a poem that truly didn’t make any sense at all. I don’t remember it, but the last two lines were:

Lost thoughts,

Found beards.

We were laughing hysterically when the guy’s friend comes over with a pen and paper saying that I didn’t respond yet. I gave him the poem. He looked so excited. We were laughing so hard, I'm not sure what he really thought. He left shortly after and so did we.  I can only imagine what he thought the poem meant. We retired for the evening and said our final goodbyes to each other as Michelle had work again the next morning at 6am.

Enjoying some custard at Leopold's Cafe

Mustache party!

Sweet pitcher of beer huh?

            I had such a huge pile of laundry that was strung up all over the room and I knew less then 24 hours wasn’t enough time for them to dry. Most of the did but there were still a fair amount of clothes that were still damp. I had no choice but to stuff them in my backpack because I'm headed to Thailand today! I arranged a taxi through the hotel and we left for the airport at 9:30 am. My last drive through Mumbai took me once again through the tourist areas, some historical monuments, and the slums.

The Gateway of India...again

            3 weeks has come and gone and now it’s September. It seems like just yesterday I was driving back from my past 2 years in Michigan.  Now my time in India has expired and I head to Thailand and meet up with one of my bestest friends in the whole wide world, Miz Heather Smith aka Chiquita Banana.

            India has been a completely enlightening experience. This country is MASSIVE and has so many different subcultures. . I have backpacked all over Europe but once you cross the border into Asia, it’s a whole different ball game. While I spoke to friends like Neeta and Kristen from back home, there’s no way you can ever 100% prepare yourself for India. Everything is different here but that’s what makes it so beautiful. Suddenly it’s much harder for you to communicate and to blend in (not at all in my case). The culture here is so much richer then all the countries I've been to in Europe combined. In my time I've seen the opulence of Mumbai, the chaos of Delhi, the sereneness of the Himalayas, some religious ceremonies, train travel, plenty of cheap guesthouses, the phenomenal beaches of Goa, and the ancient ruins of Hampi. There is so much more to see, I fell cheated that I'm leaving when I only scratched the surface. I was just getting accustomed to the eccentric life here.

            I think everyone (especially Americans) should make a journey to India at least some point in his or her life. And not just for a week-10 days either. (Most travelers I met here were on the road for 3-6 months. I was constantly asked why are you spending so little time here?) In my short 3 weeks of backpacking, I only met 1 other American. It was kinda cool for me to represent America but it’s also sad because we don’t take the time from our busy lives to travel to extreme foreign lands. Moreover, India is the only country I've traveled to where I didn’t get a sour reaction when I told them I was from America. Indians were genuinely exited to hear that I was from America, as opposed to France…. Ah putain, les Americaines stupide. There is something in this country for everyone whether you like outdoor things, ancient temples, a religious and spiritual retreat, yoga, or are just looking for a different perspective on life. Come here. Experience the warmth and chaos that India has to offer. So I say to my fellow countrymen, get your gear and head to India for a life changing adventure!