Thursday - March 24, 2005
Mumbai (Bombay), India
India is definitely a culture shock for those who have never visited the country before, and it can be pretty hard to deal with for those who are returning as well. The cities are particularly difficult to deal with, and seeing as Bombay is a city with 30 million inhabitants, a large number of those residents live in very squalid surroundings. India is a country of extreme contrasts, and Bombay is a microcosm of those extremes. It is an assault on the senses, in both the best and the worst ways.
We actually arrived in Bombay (I know it is now called Mumbai, but I'm slow to accept change when it comes to names.) in the early hours of March 21, but we had to wait off-shore while the Indian Immigration authorities took most of the day to to decide they had been amply recompensensed to allow us all ashore. Once we had vaulted that hurdle, we then had to wait for the tides to take us over a large sand bar that lies just off shore, so it was 10 pm when we docked. We decided that Bombay could wait for the morning, and had a drink in one of the nice bars on board (where we could trust the ice) rather than going ashore.
Our shore excursion didn't begin until 2:00 pm, so we decided to take a taxi into town to visit the Taj Mahal Hotel by the Gateway to India. That was an experience in itself. We had been told to set a price with the taxi driver before departing, so we dutifully did this, but once he had us inside the taxi, he started a campaign to take us all around the town. When we kept insisting that we just want to go to the Taj, he lost interest in taking us anywhere. So I read him the riot act, and rolled down the window to complain to a police officer who told him to get on with it. He then started off, but as soon as he got to the gates of the port, he tried to dump us again. By now I had lost all patience with this man and jumped out of the taxi to get a police officer over to assist us. This time he was sufficiently cowed to take us into town, but still tried one more time to sell us the city tour. We could not get out of that taxi fast enough once we actually got to the Taj Hotel.
The Taj Mahal Hotel quickly came to represent an oasis of calm and cleanliness in a city that is teeming with beggars, hawkers, and filth. Once you leave its doors, you are immediately bombarded by all that is wrong with India. Everywhere we went, we were beseiged by men, women, and children who were all trying to sell us something - peacock feather fans, handbags, jewellry, postcards, ice cream, etc.. But if you can put on a mental set of blinders, you also discover the fascinating side of the city. We wandered down streets that were filled with color and drama, past shops that offered some of the most beautiful carpets,carvings, silks, and jewellry that I have ever seen. A lot of the buildings are an exotic combination of Mughal and British Colonial architecture, and are slowly capitulating to the ravages of time, but still have a unique beauty.
One not so beautiful building we visited was the house where Ghandi had lived. Here, we saw dioramas that illustrated some of the major events of his life and letters he had written to Hitler and Roosevelt in an attempt to stop World War II. We hadn't been particularly excited about this portion of the tour, but once there, we quickly became intrigued by the displays and learned a lot about this great man. He is a fine example of a man who faced impossible odds and very trying circumstances, yet held true to his beliefs. We came away with a great deal of admiration for his courage and his persistence.
And speaking of courage and persistence, our next stop illustrated how man will carry on doing whatever is required to survive. We stopped at Dhobi Ghat, one of the outdoor laundries, where men toil from sunrise to sunset cleaning clothes on stones for a few rupees per load. The area where they worked was like a shanty town of corrugated tin, a vast area of grey and black broken by the lines of sparkling white sheets and colorful clothing. It is backbreaking work in the hot sun, and I found it very dispiriting to look upon, but I could see why almost everyone in Bombay is so clean and neatly dressed, whatever their station in life.
India is a difficult country to like, particularly the cities. But it has a charm and a beauty, especially in the countryside, that can't be easily explained and has to be experienced to fully understand it. I have what I consider a love/hate relationship with India, and the pendulum swings wildly from one minute to the next. Bombay was no exception.