Sprawling, Sprawling City
Mumbai is a huge city. I haven’t even been into Mumbai proper yet. But the suburbs appear to just keep going and going. And to go into Mumbai proper, that seems like a world away. I look at the map, and I see all these tourist sights in South Mumbai – things the British built back in the day, mainly – and those things seems almost a world away. I could take a rickshaw or a cab, but with this always gridlocked traffic, it would take so long to get there. Hours maybe. And it would be hot. Riding in the back of a rickshaw in this heat all the way down there would feel like a full day of work.
There is no subway, but there is a railway system. Indians in America tell me to not take the trains. If you’ve seen pictures or videos of old-looking trains with Indian men hanging out the doors and from the windows, you’ve probably seen the Mumbai suburban rail trains. A front page article in the Wall Street Journal in May said it was the deadliest train route in the world, something like 1300 people dying every year. My friend in Mumbai lives in a suburb even more distant than Andheri, where I’m staying now. He takes the trains, and he calls it miserable. And he rides in the first class partition. Still, if I want to make it to South Mumbai, I’m going to have to take the trains. I hope my mom doesn’t read this – she forbid me to take those trains.
My company is in Bandra, a suburb that abuts Mumbai proper. I stayed there my first two nights. I’ve also been driven out further into the suburbs, Andheri and Juhu. The city keeps going and going, and as far as I can see from my window in Andheri, it’s more and more apartment towers. Tonight I’m staying in Andheri and will be for the next 5 nights. (My place is actually pretty posh, with a view, which is why I can see all these apartment towers)
Bandra is what’s called an upscale suburb and the hot center for fashion, shopping, dining, and nightlife. Sounded to me like Soho or at least the East Village. Um, not really. You can tell which are the hip restaurants. They’ll have glossy facades and names like Spice Café. The hip stores have glass fronts. I also saw a bar, Temptation, “The Devil’s Alternative.” But the filth in the streets – on the streets and on the people – makes it not feel like Soho or the East Village. People aren’t begging, but a huge portion of them I don’t think would be dining tonight at Spice Café.
"Jogging" Adventure
It was recommended to me that I should take a jog along the Bandra beach early in the morning when the temp was a little lower. I wore running shoes, gym shorts, and University of Pittsburgh shirt. The sun was just recently risen, and there were a lot of dudes sleeping on the sidewalks. I mean a lot. There are also a lot of people walking places. There are always a lot of people walking places. There are a lot of people here.
And about my embarrassment on this adventure. First, there are no white folks in Bandra. (For anyone who doesn’t know, I’m blonde haired blue-eyed, so I can’t even pass for a light skinned Indian.) Second, no one was wearing gym shorts and running shoes. And no one was jogging. I felt a lot of eyes on my silly ass. I never jogged either, just walked. I would have felt too silly jogging.
I could see where the sea was. I knew the direction, but there isn’t just one road you can take to get there. The roads are a completely haphazard mess, and there are no street signs. I took a very non direct route, but I found the sea. And toward the sea, there were less of the dirty dudes working or hustling or doing whatever it is all these people in the streets are always doing (there are so many people). I saw this older, pudgy Indian dude wearing gym shorts, running shoes, and a Harvard shirt. He was out for a brisk morning walk. I was like, Great, I’m in my hood. Then at the shore there were other people like me. Not white, just dressed like they had leisure time. They were like me because they were in the streets for exercise, not because they were working or going to work. If they weren’t exercising, these leisured people wouldn’t be walking in the streets. They would be driving or taking a rickshaw or cab.
So I walked to the end of the park on the shore. I knew that my hotel was a straight shot from where I was. But there isn’t a straight road to take there. (Yes, I could have retraced my steps, but I had taken such an indirect route to get where I was, and I could see that my hotel was not too far from where I ended up.) So I walked for an hour and a half, saw an open sewage trench in a shantytown with shanties built right onto the bank. I was lo-ost, and I felt silly in my stupid clothes, and I walked until my legs were sore and my shirt developed some big ugly wet spots. I never actually jogged because I felt stupid enough, not being like everyone else, as it was. I think I saw one bourgie girl jogging and no one else. If anyone was out for exercise, they were walking, at the park on the shore. And I can’t imagine someone jogging on the streets.
Then sometimes side streets just look mean. Shanty vendor stalls all down the sides selling whatever. I saw a barber set up in the street. Even in a part of Bandra with upscale condos and apartment towers, there was a small shantytown set up next to a church. I guess the church allows it to stay. Of course, I also saw a more massive shantytown in Bandra. It was down by the stagnant, muddy water inlet that separates Bandra from Mumbai proper. Down these side streets, I also saw scabby dogs running around, and skinny cows eating trash from the gutter.
But yo, I eventually found the sea again and was able to retrace my steps back to my hotel, and I made it to work relatively on time. Only relatively on time because I got delayed at the security check point at my office building because I couldn’t understand what that security dude was saying, and he couldn’t understand what I was saying.
There is no subway, but there is a railway system. Indians in America tell me to not take the trains. If you’ve seen pictures or videos of old-looking trains with Indian men hanging out the doors and from the windows, you’ve probably seen the Mumbai suburban rail trains. A front page article in the Wall Street Journal in May said it was the deadliest train route in the world, something like 1300 people dying every year. My friend in Mumbai lives in a suburb even more distant than Andheri, where I’m staying now. He takes the trains, and he calls it miserable. And he rides in the first class partition. Still, if I want to make it to South Mumbai, I’m going to have to take the trains. I hope my mom doesn’t read this – she forbid me to take those trains.
My company is in Bandra, a suburb that abuts Mumbai proper. I stayed there my first two nights. I’ve also been driven out further into the suburbs, Andheri and Juhu. The city keeps going and going, and as far as I can see from my window in Andheri, it’s more and more apartment towers. Tonight I’m staying in Andheri and will be for the next 5 nights. (My place is actually pretty posh, with a view, which is why I can see all these apartment towers)
Bandra is what’s called an upscale suburb and the hot center for fashion, shopping, dining, and nightlife. Sounded to me like Soho or at least the East Village. Um, not really. You can tell which are the hip restaurants. They’ll have glossy facades and names like Spice Café. The hip stores have glass fronts. I also saw a bar, Temptation, “The Devil’s Alternative.” But the filth in the streets – on the streets and on the people – makes it not feel like Soho or the East Village. People aren’t begging, but a huge portion of them I don’t think would be dining tonight at Spice Café.
"Jogging" Adventure
It was recommended to me that I should take a jog along the Bandra beach early in the morning when the temp was a little lower. I wore running shoes, gym shorts, and University of Pittsburgh shirt. The sun was just recently risen, and there were a lot of dudes sleeping on the sidewalks. I mean a lot. There are also a lot of people walking places. There are always a lot of people walking places. There are a lot of people here.
And about my embarrassment on this adventure. First, there are no white folks in Bandra. (For anyone who doesn’t know, I’m blonde haired blue-eyed, so I can’t even pass for a light skinned Indian.) Second, no one was wearing gym shorts and running shoes. And no one was jogging. I felt a lot of eyes on my silly ass. I never jogged either, just walked. I would have felt too silly jogging.
I could see where the sea was. I knew the direction, but there isn’t just one road you can take to get there. The roads are a completely haphazard mess, and there are no street signs. I took a very non direct route, but I found the sea. And toward the sea, there were less of the dirty dudes working or hustling or doing whatever it is all these people in the streets are always doing (there are so many people). I saw this older, pudgy Indian dude wearing gym shorts, running shoes, and a Harvard shirt. He was out for a brisk morning walk. I was like, Great, I’m in my hood. Then at the shore there were other people like me. Not white, just dressed like they had leisure time. They were like me because they were in the streets for exercise, not because they were working or going to work. If they weren’t exercising, these leisured people wouldn’t be walking in the streets. They would be driving or taking a rickshaw or cab.
So I walked to the end of the park on the shore. I knew that my hotel was a straight shot from where I was. But there isn’t a straight road to take there. (Yes, I could have retraced my steps, but I had taken such an indirect route to get where I was, and I could see that my hotel was not too far from where I ended up.) So I walked for an hour and a half, saw an open sewage trench in a shantytown with shanties built right onto the bank. I was lo-ost, and I felt silly in my stupid clothes, and I walked until my legs were sore and my shirt developed some big ugly wet spots. I never actually jogged because I felt stupid enough, not being like everyone else, as it was. I think I saw one bourgie girl jogging and no one else. If anyone was out for exercise, they were walking, at the park on the shore. And I can’t imagine someone jogging on the streets.
Then sometimes side streets just look mean. Shanty vendor stalls all down the sides selling whatever. I saw a barber set up in the street. Even in a part of Bandra with upscale condos and apartment towers, there was a small shantytown set up next to a church. I guess the church allows it to stay. Of course, I also saw a more massive shantytown in Bandra. It was down by the stagnant, muddy water inlet that separates Bandra from Mumbai proper. Down these side streets, I also saw scabby dogs running around, and skinny cows eating trash from the gutter.
But yo, I eventually found the sea again and was able to retrace my steps back to my hotel, and I made it to work relatively on time. Only relatively on time because I got delayed at the security check point at my office building because I couldn’t understand what that security dude was saying, and he couldn’t understand what I was saying.
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