The Madness of Mumbai

I made it safe and sound to Mumbai on Friday night. My experience after that was nothing close to "safe and sound". I'm perfectly healthy and uninjured, but as someone mentioned to me before, it's a constant attack on all your senses. Cars scream by rickshaws (also known as tuk-tuks in other s.e. Asian countries) that whizz by trucks who happen to barely miss the two old ladies wrapped in saris sitting on the corner of the guard rail for the on ramp to the highway. No, I'm not joking, I think I've witnessed more close encounters on my 15/20 min commute by cab to work everyday than I've ever seen in my life. Amongst the 30 or so officially recognize dialects, and what I'm told is a out 200 actual ones, I'm pretty convinced the fine push of a steering wheel, squeeze of a rickshaws horn, and ring of a bicycle bell all fall within the category of a language. New York really has nothing on the continual street noise here.

The funny thing, I do feel safe. Right from the start I decided to just assume the attitude of the mayhem being normal, and have quickly become immune to cars nearly driving over my toes or knocking me over. I think the "out of sight out of mind" rule doesn't apply here, but it's more of a "not in your control, not your problem" attitude. It's definitely every one looking out for number one in the commotion of daily life.

I read about modernizing cities and emerging economies, but what I'm sensing is that many assume a romantisized view of what that means, and take the poverty as something to put in the back of their minds. I know I do it too, but being here makes you realize the nature of your normal citizen. I guess i forgot a bit about what china was like, but i think its certainly more apparent here in india. For instance, the buildings here are certainly not clean, minus corporate offices, by western standards. As I looked around for apartments over the weekend, I tried to put my perception of cleanliness aside when viewing the exterior of what would possibly be my home for the next year. I know my dad would spend every weekend for a good six months trying to wipe away the grime that builds up from the humidity, monsoon, then heat. It's a good thing yard work isn't mandatory anymore. Yet, in reality it doesn't bother me that much. Not too sound like a cliche real estate agent, but it brings about a certain charm the way people accept a scrubby exterior as a community. Hey, if it doesn't bother them I can't let something like that get to me.

This rambling is making my experience sound less than optimal, which is not what I'm trying to portray. The challenge will be to adjust, and meeting people is key. I met a German guy on saturday who's lived in the city for about a year. It was helpful to get his perspective on everything, and certainly going out late with some of his Indian friends settled some anxieties. What has also been nice is the food. I understand the British desire to rule this land of spices, as everything, even the office cafeteria, tastes great. I'm probably jaded in my opinions at this point, but I'm about to head out now and try some new dishes.

I haven't taken many pictures yet, but I'll leave you with the image of me sitting in the back of a local cab, which means no A/C, with most likely a rusty fender and designed for some reason to be about 3/4 the size of a normal car (probably because most are from the 1960s). My driver is weaving around every sort of vehicle, person and the occasional holy cow, as I take in a couple puffs of tar black exhaust belching from the truck beside us. I'm clearly the only white guy in thet congestion in which everything is viewable due to the transparent nature of car windows here, and because I'm wearing a button-down work shirt that shines like new compared to most peoples clothes. We head off a ramp twisting around the bay, and pass by, you guessed it, a slum next to the water, right before we duck into the more residential alcove where I'm currently staying.

So yes, sensory overload.