It's Makes My Head Hurt

From Mumbai (Bomba...

It’s day two of my twenty-one day tour of India and I’m struggling. I’m struggling to reconcile everything that I’m seeing, smelling, tasting and even feeling. But, it all just keeps swirling around in my head aimlessly looking for something to break it all down in an orderly fashion - as I always manage to do in my organized little world.

But, India is far from organized, and could never be called little, so my senses begin to overload from the growing backlog of unresolved sensory input. My body begins to revolt in protest. I acquire a headache that will not leave me for the duration of my stay in Mumbai (formerly known as Bombay).

My stomach stages a violent coup and usurps any control I have over it in a power play to demand that I cease immediately my attempts at being a culinary adventurer. My eyes begin to glaze over, no longer able to cope with the onslaught of disparate images inundating my pupils.

In just twenty-four hours, I’ve already found India almost too much to digest, literally and figuratively. Mumbai is just a microcosm of the rest of the country. Like the rest of India - as I’ll find out - Mumbai seems to have world-class potential. Located on a slim peninsula that juts off the massive Indian subcontinent like a downward curled finger, it’s surrounded by the Indian Ocean with a wide, arching shoreline to the east, and a slender, more secluded one to the west which would seem prime to make Mumbai an ideal stop on anyone’s global itinerary.

But, that world-class potential is buried deeply beneath near-ludicrous levels of pollution, unseemly mounds of garbage, chaotic traffic, grime and soot covered crumbling buildings, shoddy streets and sidewalks, and an overpopulation issue that results in one of the most,if not the most, horrific percentages of unemployment and poverty in the world. Out of a national population of 1.1 billion, 800 million live in abject poverty - that‘s almost triple the entire U.S. population, rich and poor.







It’s wearing me down quickly to have all my senses on constant red-alert, keeping careful watch on where I’m walking (into unyielding traffic or possibly a big pile of cow poo), what I’m hearing (the constant shriek of hundreds of car horns), or who that might be touching me (a relentless hawker, a stray dog, or just maybe that cow I passed a couple of minutes ago). But, what’s really getting to me is the constant swirl of emotions that accompany each new sensory input.

I seem to cycle, at break-neck speed, through equal levels of amazement, disgust, excitement, despair, and total bewilderment. Frustration also creeps in frequently as the sheer scope of the destitute millions seems inhumane, yet I’m almost at a loss for where one might even begin to make it better. The lack of any semblance of infrastructure baffles me as to how a city of 18 million can function. No clean water system, not even a moderately functioning waste management system, nor even a mile or two of remotely adequate roads.

Most frustrating though, is that I've constantly heard, prior to arrival, about how the country is on the verge of being anointed the next great world power with a supposedly burgeoning economy thanks to its tech savvyness. Yet, the reality I'm encountering tells me that at most, Mumbai - and the rest of India - is built on a shaky foundation of monumental domestic issues that seem ripe to nip it’s global aspirations in the bud if not addressed in the rather near future.

I'm no governmental, political or economic genius, but it would seem that there are a vast array of public works projects that could employ millions - even billions - for decades while providing the type of infrastructure that the country sorely needs. Likewise, it would, hopefully, serve to raise the standard of living to at least functional which would seem to be light years beyond what the majority of the populace endures currently.

But, ripping my emotions to the opposite side of the spectrum, I am struck by the heart of the country. That, after all, has long been India's calling card, and it seems for good reason. The overall friendliness, sense of family and concern for the community with which most Indians seem to conduct their lives, despite whatever their lot in that life might be, is inspiring. In fact, in my short stay in Mumbai thus far, I've been party to two incredible acts of kindness and selflessness.

After walking aimlessly for a good twenty minutes, trying to find the Mahatma Ghandi museum, my friends Jen & John (I'll get to them shortly) and I came to an intersection. The crossing split five ways yet lacked any visible markings that would give us an indication of which street was which or where we were on the map we were uselessly staring at. Seeing our confusion, a man easily in his 70s, approached us and asked us where we wanted to go. We reluctantly told him our intended destination.

Our hesitation arose from having encountered a similar ploy from the numerous touts we'd encountered during our short stay who then demand payment for their 'services' (i.e. telling you which general direction to head). But, he seemed rather dignified and his age made us feel it was likely that our first instinct was incorrect. He told us to follow him which we did mostly out of sheer desperation. He quietly walked us eight blocks down one of the streets to the destination we sought, which turned to be the opposite of the direction he was originally heading himself.

Amazed at his kindness, we sheepishly offered to pay him for his efforts, although we felt like we might insult his kindness by doing so. But, he flatly refused, despite numerous attempts, and simply wished us a good day and healthy lives before disappearing back into the Mumbai millions.

A few days later, we found ourselves in the northern suburbs of Mumbai, determined to explore one of the city's middle class suburbs and seek out some authentic Indian fare. We inadvertently chose to do so during Holi which is one of India's biggest holidays resulting in the closure of most restaurants and businesses. So, we stumbled over to the gate of a nearby country club to ask for recommendations on where to dine.

Overhearing our inquiry was a club member who just signing in for lunch himself. Almost instantly, he insisted that we join him as guests in the club and dine at our leisure. We sheepishly, but hungrily, took him up on his offer and were led to a table situated between the pool and ocean. He advised us to order from whatever menu we preferred before leaving to join his own party across the grounds.

An hour later, after paying our own bill, we approached the man again to thank him and offered to pay for his meal to repay his kindness. But, as the old man had done days earlier, he steadfastly refused, accepting only our thanks and wishing us well in our journeys.

As the noise in my head and rumblings of my body continue to try to adjust to this place, which is far outside my comfort zone, these two men remind me what I already know. It's all about the people. Through the people of this, or any country, is how I am sure to begin to make sense of the chaos that seems to surround me. It's in them that I will find discomfort and uneasiness replaced by relief and enjoyment, and an understanding of what makes India tick. I may not ultimately agree with or enjoy everything that I find, but hopefully I will understand and that will make all the difference.

Making a difference right off the bat, has been the chance to travel with a few friends while I'm in India. My friends, Jen and John have been on their own 'round-the-world journey. As I've traveled west, they've headed east and India is where our paths cross. While there are advantages to traveling solo, there are equally as many to traveling with others, and this has been a welcome change. If nothing else, it provides built in companions to talk to about our various travels and experiences. That is turning out to be ideal to help adjust to these new surroundings.

However, I was a bit overeager to mimic their zeal for delving into local cuisine, figuring I could be a bit more adventurous with a couple who are much more familiar with it than I. Those attempts backfired - I‘d say literally here, but that could be just too much information - and I soon had to moderate my intake of local cuisine and peruse the menu more judiciously. But, I did find a few dishes that were moderate to the palate and stomach which I came to enjoy a number of times throughout our various stops in India.



I was also comforted to see that they seemed to share my own affliction of struggling to cope with our new environment, although theirs’ seemed a bit more subdued as they’ve just started traveling again after a two month break while India is the crescendo of my so-called third world journeys. Even better, Jen came equipped with a full medical arsenal including a bottle of Tylenol that just might help me shake this headache and begin to see India which a much clearer head.


MUMBAI PHOTO ALBUM (click photo):

Mumbai (Bombay) '07