Thursday, May 23, 1997

The last day in Bombay I got to spend with Sunita and I loved it!

She took me shopping first off. Who wouldn't love that? We went to a place called Cottage Industries. It kind of reminded me of a two story flea market in Branson, but with actual bargains and truly awesome stuff. This is were I bought all of my souvenirs. They weren't tacky stuff like what you'd normally find. Or maybe they were and I just didn't know it.

After that was my favorite time in this city. We went sari shopping at the bazaars. Sunita took me to the best sari man in town and, to put it mildly, it wasn't what I expected. It was better! The shops were set up outdoors and (I hate to use this analogy again) like a flea market. Instead of being a store it was more like a booth. The proprietor sat cross legged in the floor and had saris stacked to the ceiling (tent top) on shelves. He had a helper that would shimmy up the shelves to retrieve and then refolded and put away. The owner was there strictly to barter and collect money. He never stood up the entire time I was there.

I showed Sunita what I wanted and she bartered her ass off. Those two were just going at it. When she was satisfied, she nodded. I got some of the most beautiful fabrics I've ever seen in my life and got it for a song. Next, Sunita said I needed petticoats and a protective binder to protect and create a hem for my fabric. I ended up getting those, yards and yards of silk, and five packages of bindis for about 27 American dollars. Unbelievable.

After that she took me to get some sugar cane juice. There was a cart set up and long stalks of sugar cane laying around. To make the juice, the vendor took stalks of the cane and put it through a press. Juice would come out the end and into a cup. Then he halved a lemon and squeezed the juice into my cup. It was very mild-not nearly as sweet as I anticipated.

Sunita lives in a 'joint family with my in-laws and brother and co sister-in-law'. She has a three year old son that loves lions. We sat and swapped family stories and even though we live across the world from each other it was amazing how similar her life was to mine. She was my age, had a job similar to mine and kids the same age. I just didn't feel that different from her-other than the physical. She kept lamenting the fact the only thing I would see of India was Bombay. 'I wish you could come to my home. There the air is pure and we are surrounded by great beauty'. I'm kind of bummed too. But I wouldn't trade this experience for anything.

Wednesday, May 21, 1997 Part 2

We had dinner at the residence this evening. Anup’s wife, Lima, served us a traditional Goanese dinner. We had Pomfred (which is a fish found only in this part of the world) in an orange sauce, prawns (really big shrimp), roti(flat bread) and a casserole-type dish with baby corn, carrots and mushrooms in a cream sauce. It had a spicy flavor I wasn’t used to.

Ah, of course, curry.

Lima told me she couldn’t cook if her life depended on it, but with the four servants bustling around I don’t think she worried about it much. She is a gorgeous woman- lithe, dark skinned and her English is better than mine. She didn’t have a very thick accent like everyone else. I learned she was educated in London, which seems to be common here.

Their home likens to a two-story condo with a small walled-in garden out back. Like everything else here, it needed a paint job. I’m thinking maybe only we Americans are obsessed with cleanliness and paint.

Or maybe it’s just me.

It was very neat and tidy, but looked very dated. I guess I harp on this because Anup’s home was that of a very wealthy man. My little house at home seemed more modern and I know full well I don’t have his bank account. It just seemed incongruent to be in a 2 million dollar home where the bidet didn’t flush. (I wouldn’t have known how to use it anyway!)

After dinner, Lima asked me what I wanted to do while I had some free time. I told her I wanted to buy a sari and a salwar kameez. She swept me to her bedroom and proceeded to give me two sets of salwar kameez complete with matching dupatta.
URL=http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Salwar_kameez

The first was brand new from one of the finest shops in Bombay. She said after she got it home, it just never suited her fancy. The second set she had worn once. She kept apologizing over and over again for giving me a used garment.

Is she kidding? I am ecstatic! I guess they don’t have yard sales in this part of the world.

She said she preferred western dress, but her mother gives her a hard time when she’s not dressed traditionally. So, she has several outfits to put on when she needs to appease her Mom.

We stopped for paan again on the way home. I’m getting to where I like that stuff!

Wednesday, May 21, 1997

I’m watching Bewitched dubbed in Hindi. TV over here is a hoot. Everything is so over-the-top and well, kind of campy. Funny stuff.

As I look out the window, there are the most beautiful flowery trees and shrubs growing up and out of the piles of garbage. I hate to keep harping on the trash, but being a small town girl and all, I’m not used to it. There are orange mimosa trees and some really hot pink bushes that are quite fragrant.

Little kids are running through the streets without any clothes on. The naked boys bother me. They crack me up though. They’re giggling! If you think about it, it is really practical of their mothers not to bother with clothes in all this heat. They outgrow them so fast anyway. I saw a little boy yesterday taking a bath in the street. He just soaped up along side the road.

There are no sidewalks by the way. Everything just goes from store front to street.

They are constantly doing road construction here. They don’t have a lot of time saving modern machinery. I was told they don’t want to take employment away from the masses.

They are having a wedding at the hotel tonight. The lower courtyard was filled with Christmas lights. I ‘clicked a snap’ but I don’t think it will come out.

Chuck and I traveled by rickshaw back to the office today. It wasn’t nearly as fun as I envisioned. The exhaust fumes were awful. There was thick black smoke everywhere. It’s actually the first time I’ve been outside in the streets.

When we finished up at the office and had Rasheesh drive us back, we thought it would be a great idea to walk down to the beach. I had never seen black sand before and I wanted some to take home. We went through the pool area. We thought it was odd that the gate was locked. We realized then that the lock was to keep people from the beach coming into the hotel. I had three Indian boys leer at me. (The slutty American woman in shorts, you know) There was an old woman begging for rupees.

Now we are bored. We want to explore, but were told it wasn’t in our best interest to go out into the city ‘unescorted’. So, we have to wait until Bob and Anup get here from the office. We’re going to ‘the residence’ for dinner tonight.

We figured out how to get the door open between our rooms. That was exciting. So we watched a cricket tournament followed with a rugby chaser.

Now I know what those flat bat things are that all the boys are carrying around.

Tuesday, May 20, 1997

I didn’t write yesterday because the lag caught up with me. I went to bed. But, the day went something like this.

Rasheesh came around with the car about 11:00. Jimmy said I could wear shorts over here since its so hot, but I was the only woman in Mumbai showing her legs. I stick out enough being so white. I didn’t need that to contend with, but it was too late.

On the way to the office we stopped buy Anup’s new building. He’s building a flat for himself and his wife. The furniture is being made and the cabinets and woodwork is being put in. It’s a tiny little thing, but it has three bedrooms with each one having it’s own bath. It‘s got marble flooring and a great kitchen. Bob asked me what I thought. He had a weird glint in his eye. I told him I thought it was nice, but I’d seen bigger places back home. The glint in his eye was the price tag. One. Million. Dollars. I was floored.

The offices were just as dirty as everything else I’d seen. I feel like such a snob, but if I had a bucket and soap, I’d have gladly scrubbed the place. We worked there for a couple of hours and then Chuck and I moved to the factory.

The drive out wasn’t as devastating as I thought it would be. There were slums upon slums of people-some were just camped on the side of the road and this is the middle of the city! There were kids running everywhere. At stoplights we would have an old woman begging for food-or a child. They would always point to their mouth. When they saw we where white they would get even more excited. Anup said not to give them anything because they would just take it back to their pimp. People sold stuff at the lights-magazines, garland, strings of fragrant flowers for women to weave in their hair. Some of them had handicaps or limbs missing. We were told this was done intentionally. People would sometimes maim themselves to obtain more value as a beggar.

Jesus.

One little kid kept asking me for chocolate.

Chuck and I saw an Indian family in the car beside us. There were five or six kids in the back seat. They had this long pink stick that they kept poking at us through the window. Their Mom finally took it away from them and gave them a universal chewing. That was fun.

Have I mention the people drive crazy here? Well guess what? Men don’t care where they pee either.

We got to the factory and it was the cleanest building I’d seen yet. It looked like any 'cut and sew' I’d seen in America. It was ungodly hot, but so is a garment factory in mid-July in Arkansas. Did they straighten up because they knew we were coming? I honestly don't think so. Call me naive. We talked UPC’s and packing and headed back to the office after a quick tour. We’ll come back tomorrow and get to work.

We went to China Garden for supper after having China Gate for lunch. We passed by the China Camp and China Valley. Lordy, these people love their Chinese. So far, it all they’ve wanted to feed us.

I’m so glad I’m not driving in this country.

We had something called Paan tonight. It’s a digestive served on a betel leaf. Don’t ask me what’s in it-I’m not sure I want to know. They made two triangles of it and you put it between your cheek and gum or you can chew it. Yeah, kinda like you would Skoal. In fact it had tobacco in it. I’m told what we ate were held together with pear and I could taste coconut and ginger. Whatever else was in it, I got a buzz.


Paan

I’m trying to get Anup to teach me to curse in Hindi, but so far I’m getting nothing out of him.

If you’re ever in Bombay-try the Mango ice cream. It’s killer.

Crossing the Pond-Day Three

Sunday, May 18, 1997

Our luggage is already in India, while we are here in London. (I just like writing that word. London.) I had spare shirts in my carryon. I borrowed (stole) one from Big Daddy. I wanted something of his. Unfortunately, I have to let Bob borrow it because he washed the shirt on his back in the sink and then proceeded to scorch it whilst drying it on the heated towel rack.

We arrived at Heathrow on time for our flight. We stood in another goat rope and finally got boarding passes. The flight over was uneventful and very, very long. The plane was packed and I was seated between two Indian boys who were returning home. They gave me the finer points of bartering. When I told them I was staying at the Sea Princess, the reaction I received led me to believe that I was going to be staying at really, really nice place. They gave me the window seat.

We arrived in Bombay at night. Bob says this is a good thing, because the view of the slums from the air might discourage me. The airport is old and run down. We have someone greet us at the gate and walk us through immigration and customs. After all the delays and missed flights, we only had one bag come up missing.

Anup is the factory owner. I’ve corresponded with him frequently in faxes and by phone, but I’ve never gotten to meet him. His brother lives in America and I see him frequently. Anup however looks more ‘western’ than his brother despite the fact that he’s only been to the States once and can’t get a Visa to come back. He takes us to get something to eat. We go to the ‘Holiday’, because he wants us to feel comfortable. I don’t know if I’ve ever eaten at the Holiday Inn at home.

It’s 3:30 in the morning and I’m no where near ready to sleep. I have to be up and around by 9:30, so I decide to just stay up.

I try to call Big Daddy, but it’s near impossible to dial out. I tried for over an hour. If I don’t leave word soon, he’s going to freak.

As the sun came up I looked out my window.

Wow.

I saw palm trees and people sleeping.

This was so odd. It was if when they got sleepy, they just laid down wherever they were. There were throngs of people everywhere. And dogs. Dogs are everywhere and appear unafraid of anything. Everything was jumbled together-the people and the dogs and the cars. There aren’t any marked lanes on the street. There’s no order. People just drive in any direction weaving in and out of each other. There are no turn signals. They honk. In fact I saw a large dump trunk carrying people. (public transportation?) The sign in the back said HONK OK PLEASE.

I looked for cows. I know, I know, how silly can you be? But I did.

Crossing the Pond-Days One and Two

Friday, May 16, 1997

I just left for my big trip to the land of curry. Little is upset because he can’t ride in the airplane and Big is being his sweet-natured self.

I think I have everything I need. I should have eaten something. My ears have finally started popping, though. I thought my head would implode. I have no idea were I am going once I get to O’Hare.

Bob and Chuck are supposed to meet me when I get off the plane, but I have no idea if they know what my flight number is or when I land. I have a two hour layover so surely they’ll find me.

Saturday, May 17, 1997

God it takes forever to traipse through O’Hare! I met up with the boys and we sat on the runway for an hour and a half which made us think we might miss our connection at Heathrow. The three of us settled in and watched Jerry McGuire. We had a little turbulence but big jets handle it a lot smoother than those little turbo props.

I fell asleep and woke up to a continental breakfast with very muddy hot tea. But I had clotted cream for the first time. I know it’s airplane food and all, but I thought it was pretty tasty. I have no clue where to look for it when I get back home.

Lo and behold, the fog is so dense at Heathrow that we can’t land. We had to circle around to Shannon, Ireland and sit in the plane for three hours while they refuel. I guess technically I can now add Ireland to places I’ve been. But does it really count if your feet never actually touch the soil?

I’m ready to get off this plane.

Needless to say, we missed our connection.

We stood in line at the British Airways counter for two hours waiting to get our tickets re-assigned. We shared the line with a Japanese tour guide with 20 or so passports in his hand. His breath was so bad I thought I’d pass out. And he wanted to talk to me the entire time and I couldn’t understand a word he said! We end up having to hole up here and leave at 9:55 tomorrow morning. There goes our Sunday of playtime in Bombay or Mumbai as it now is called.

But being stranded in London for a night isn’t such a hardship now is it? The airline puts us up at the Radisson here at the airport.

We took ‘The tube’ into London. We don’t have any public transportation at home. I mean, you can take the bus if you need to, but we have no rail system. So to me, getting on a train is an experience.

"Mind the gap."

Wonderful- Beautiful- Wish you were here!

We ate fish and chips (obviously) and drank warm beer in a dark little pub. I loved every nano second of it. I mentioned the warm beer and Bob said that Americans are actually thought of as barbaric for drinking our beer cold.

Oh… Lesson one learned already.

We strolled through Piccadilly, St. James Park and made our way back through to Buckingham Palace. I’ll write more about these places when I have my ‘official’ layover on the way home

I’ve never seen such parks as they have here in London. They are so perfectly manicured and green. There are flower gardens and ponds. They don’t even look real they are so beautiful and pristine. Do they have that mist pumped in special? It was a park for lovers. They were everywhere.

I love the feel of a big city. I enjoy Chicago and New York, but London feels regal somehow.

It’s 11:00 pm London time.

I’m beat.

Crossing the Pond-The Intro

In the Spring of 1997, I took a trip overseas-my first and only trip across the pond.

It was for work purposes and I remember the initial conversation like it was yesterday.

"Sugar, I’m going to have to send you to the factory."

“Cool. I’ve not been to the Little Rock branch.”

“Eh, no. I’m sending you to Bombay.”

“Huh?”

“I know. It’s a rotten thing to do to you. It’s nasty, it’s dirty and you’re going to hate me for the rest of your life, but I can’t bring myself to go again this year.”

“Huh?”

“I’ll send Bob and Chuck to go with you. They can meet you in Chicago. I told them you get to pick the layover. I like Rome, but since it’s your first trip overseas, you might want to go where they speak English as the primary. How about London? Will that be OK? You’ll need to get a passport."

“...Huh?"

Obviously I went and never did hate Jimmy like he said I would.

A Missouri girl traveling to India?

Insanity!

Why?

To this day, I’ve never figured out the reason for that trip. The work I did while there was a waste of time. Bob and Chuck could have easily taken care of it. Maybe Jimmy wanted me to have an adventure?

And I got to go to frikkin’ London! Twice! Jesus, England is the Holy Mecca to an English Major.

So I decided I would keep a journal. I knew that I would never remember all the things I wanted to remember, so that seemed the way to do it. At the time I thought I was keeping great detail, but after rereading it, I find I did an abysmal job.

But, I’m going to recount my trip. I will do some refining, but mostly it will be just as I wrote it.

I'll start in a day or two.

Big and Little, this is for you.