My favorite part of the day

Note: All photos are way below.
I suppose I am not writing as much this summer because I am only in India for a short amount of time. So I am spending my time doing other things. I have a standard routine: wake up at 6:45 A.M., go running, get to work by 9:15 A.M. via Arnav’s father and his driver, work until 5:30 more or less, go exploring or watch the sunset (before the rains hit), sit in traffic for an hour and a half, and then get home exhausted and ready to eat dinner precisely at 8:30 p.m., watch a movie, hang out with Arnav’s friends, and go to bed.

There is one part of the day that I absolutely love. And that is the drive from work to home or wherever I may be going. I always take a cab. Before the rains hit it took me about 45 minutes to get home, costing me $5. The windows are always rolled down and the wind blows in your face. If I don't go right home after work, then I go to a park. Either way, I take the Sea Link, which is a roadway. This connects Bandra (where I work) to South Mumbai (where I live). It was recently built and makes the commute an hour quicker. After sitting in the office all day, it is nice to have the hot Mumbai air blowing in your face. When getting on the sea link, these rickety old cabs drive as fast as they possibly can. The wind gusts are incredibly strong, and the cab driver is usually in a war with the wind, which is quite powerful when you are driving on the Sea Link, which is one, long bridge. I have often thought that the wind will just pick up the cab and plop it right down in the middle of the ocean, but the cab drivers have a lot of practice. I listen to music on this “long” drive home, and most of the time it is peppy, upbeat Bollywood music.

There are three spots on my drive home where people always approach my car and I get asked to buy books, magazines, flowers, or food. The magazine sellers are the best. They point to the cover of India VOGUE saying, “Madame, you are very much beautiful, but you too could like this.” Thank you? The booksellers currently have the The Fault in Our Stars in their pile of six or seven books. The men say, “Madame, your eyes beautiful. Blue. Like the stars. You want The Fault in Our Stars?” I do not know how much these go for because I have never even asked. I often get frustrated with the magazine and book sellers, who are usually men in their twenties and thirties and always go through each of their products by complimenting me in some way or another. They all have the same speech and will sit at my taxi, trying to yell at me through my headphones and over the honking, until the stoplight turns green.

Arnav’s father once told me a true story about a famous author who came to Mumbai for a book signing. From the airport to the hotel, the author saw a boy walking from car to car selling six or seven books. One of the books was the author's own. The author asked how much the boy wanted for the book and was told $2.00. And of course the author bought his own book for much cheaper than he could have found it anywhere else in the world.

The only time I have ever bought something from one of these sellers is when I heard a little girl say, “Ma’am, Ma’am” in a high pitched voice. I kept telling myself, “Don’t look, don’t look, don’t look.” But of course, I looked. I could only see the tip of her head and an arm reaching above the window holding mogras (which are strings of white flowers) above the window. I brought my body to the other side of the cab to peek my head over the window to see her face. Her eyes looked shocked as I came over the window and she saw me. I immediately caved, asking her in Hindi how much they cost. She responded in her high squeaky voice “Panch rupees,” or five rupees. The deal was done. Mogras are really nice, and if you hang them from the air conditioning, they make your room smell excellent.

Once I get off the Sea Link, I spend ten or fifteen minutes looking out the window watching people sit on the stone wall and admiring the view from the sea. From Indian tourists taking photos, to couples enjoying time by themselves, I find myself people watching like a mad woman. I especially enjoy watching the couples demonstrate PDA, as if no one is around and it is only the sun, the view, and the two of them. I was quite shocked the first time I saw this because for a long time this was a national no-no, but it again shows the progression of India and the change in the culture.

From this spot, we drive through a slum and a vegetable market and then past Barclays of India, followed by the most famous mosque in Mumbai and then finally a Jaguar/Range Rover auto dealership. Weird, huh?

I get out of the cab, paying the cab driver around $4.50-$5.00 and enter Priya Darshin Park, which is the biggest area of green space I have seen in Mumbai. I sit on the rocks and watch the sunset. It is nice to get fresh air and have some quiet time after feeling cramped in the bustling city. The view is absolutely beautiful and sometimes if the waves are really big you get some droplets of polluted ocean water splashed all over you. There is a collection of rocks that seem to have been made to be a relaxing seat. I think I have reserved that spot for myself every day at 6:45 P.M., after I spend an hour with my head out the window doing what I do best: people watching and analyzing the culture around me.

Sending you polluted sunsets from India,

Hannah Dobie

About to reach the Sea Link.

Photos of the sea link from the Internet:

On the Sea Link.

A few photos of the small, pop up slum.



After the sea link.

There is always so much traffic.

The most famous mosque in Mumbai.

Couples always snuggling up.

Priya Darshani Park.

You want to try some goat brain?

On Friday evening, a few women from the office and I ventured to Muhammad Ali Road (which is pretty cool if you think about it, and here they pronounce it as if it is one word, jumbled together). This is THE Islamic market in Mumbai and it is located in an area that is densely populated by Muslims. Upon arrival, you find the classic “Indian scene.” A narrow lane, apartment buildings on either side with shops on the ground level, street vendors blocking the entrances to the shops, thousands of people walking with a mission (and willing to run you over to accomplish that mission), beggars galore, enough smells to make your nose confused, and noises that make your ears hurt.




The entrance to Muhammad Ali Road.

One of the mosques.


This month is Ramadan, the time when Muslims fast during the sunlight and break the fast at sunset. This is the time, people say, when Muhammad Ali road has the most amazing food. So that’s why we planned the outing.

Every single one of us looked out of place. I was the blonde foreigner. The other women, dressed in western work clothing, stood out as well. Although these women have lived in Mumbai most of their lives, they had never ventured to the famous Muhammad Ali Road. As soon as we entered the narrow lane, we were immediately astounded by the crowds. Within a few yards, we had come across a huge mosque, a massive sweets shop filled with homemade Islamic sweets, and bunches of short, plump, goats walking all around us. There were clothing stores filled with traditional Islamic clothes, and beggars following us every step of the way. We passed by food stall after food stall, with women and men buying food to bring home to mark the breaking of the fast, which was scheduled to happen at 7:20.



Notice the live animals on the right.
Notice the dead animals that I ate on the left.

July 4th hotdogs!



A line of food, for miles.

Cooking somasos (a famous Indian snack).

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 



 

A traditional snack: sort of like a chicken roll (fried, of course). I enjoyed it.



It must have been clear to everyone that we were lost and confused. Not knowing which food to try first, we eventually stopped at a stall that looked like it had a nice tandoori chicken. So, we tried it. I knew it wasn’t chicken and stopped after my first two bites. After doing some research about what it was, we discovered… well, they were testicles. We all looked at each other in shock. I started bursting out laughing, thinking to myself, “Here we pass all these food stalls, and we decide this one looks the best and the safest, and we end up eating testicles?” I thought they tasted horrible, but some of the women actually liked them. Regardless, once we learned what they were, they went straight into the trash can.


We continued walking down the long narrow lane. People made a point of yelling at us as they encouraged us to try their special dishes. Fact is, with all the crowds, we never made it to the end of the lane because the time was getting close to 7:20 and we wanted to find a proper restaurant in which to sit at a table and eat. (By proper I mean a place with a table and a chair). Sure enough, we found a restaurant where I ended up eating the strangest assortment of goat dishes. I sampled brain, kidney, liver, and heart. I liked the kidney the most and the brain the least. They clearly do not waste any part of their meat. Ever.




Brain, kidney and other body parts before cooked.



Goat brain on the left, kidney on the right.



Some of my colleagues from Russell Reynolds.



Dessert: fried dough soaked in butter.

You can get your hair done and
eat goat brain at the same time.





















Before our "proper" dinner.




Outside Muhammad Ali road.

This was honestly the most fun I have had in Mumbai since coming here. Here is this little piece of something that is so Indian, which is then surrounded by a city trying to be so not Indian. I love adventures like these. This is where most of the Islamic population in Mumbai goes every day. They do not go to the glass buildings of Maker Maxity, or the fancy apartments. They crowd in around Muhammad Ali Road and that makes it worth seeing. It is as if you are walking into a different world. All of the written language is in Urdu, and everyone is wearing completely different clothing. What is also amazing is that these people most likely never leave this area. It is an economy in itself, an ecosystem supported on its own. They won’t go buy goods and products from outside this area, as all of the Muslims support one another. Fact is, it is very rare to see a Muslim in the corporate world. You can find them in the fine arts area (Bollywood especially) but they have yet to make it to the “top” here in India. I have more research to do on this separation and the segregation of the physical Islamic communities but I will report back soon.  

For the rest of the weekend, I spent my Saturday walking around the city exploring the various “sales” going on. Once the monsoons start every single store features a sale for about a month (restaurants, clothing shops, you name it there is a sale sign in front of it). This is a tradition celebrating the arrival of the monsoon because the monsoon dictates India’s economy with the growth of the crops. I then went to go see the movie “The Fault in Our Stars.” I was by myself and it just so happened that I sat next to a single, 30-year-old woman who grew up in Mumbai, went to college in the UK, and has a brother who lives in North Carolina. We talked for a long time before the movie and in the middle of the movie she turned to me, as we were both bawling, and said, “Eat my popcorn.” It was the saddest movie ever. After the credits were over and the janitors were cleaning up, I was still in the theatre crying and trying to get my act together. The janitors were very confused and wondering what to do with me. That moment could have made it on America’s Funniest Home Videos.

On Sunday, I ventured to the touristy part of Mumbai. I visited the Prince of Wales Museum, where I saw sculptures of Hindu Gods from like the second century. I took a Hinduism course this past semester at Wake and I loved seeing the artwork in person. The museum is huge, filled with many historic Indian artifacts and pieces of art. Look below for lots of photos!

Also, for the first time last night, I gave money to a beggar. I think I have been asked for money over 300 times since I arrived in Mumbai. (No exaggeration.) I had just walked out of a nice pizza restaurant and this young lady followed me all the way down the street. Never said a word, just followed with her hand out. And the moment I got in the car and looked her in the eye, I caved. Completely caved, and gave her 10 rs.

Sending you a goat brain for a delicious dinner,

Hannah Dobie

Photos from Prince of Wales museum:



Late is better than never

Last weekend, the last weekend in June, I visited a friend from Operation Smile. Archna was someone with whom I bonded quite a bit back in Guwahati. She was the program coordinator and was on every mission I was on. She very recently got married and moved to Mumbai. Yes, you are thinking, okay, Mumbai, like maybe she lives 30 minutes away. No, actually, she is an hour and a half away. She lives in a suburb known as Thane, where it is cheaper to live but looks exactly the same and has everything Mumbai has, including the traffic. As a newly married couple, Archna and her husband live in a one bedroom, two bathroom, one kitchen, and one small living room apartment. The entire flat is probably the size of my room at home. The unit is part of a massive apartment complex, which has six buildings, over 3,000 people, and everything you could ever need in the world (so you do not have to leave, and drive, and endure traffic). This arrangement tends to be what everyone is looking for in big Indian cities.

The view outside Archna's apartment (facing away from the massive apartment complex).

Archna and her husband have a maid who comes in the evenings to clean and make their dinner. Archna is from Northern India (Punjab to be exact). For that reason, she must wear bangles that go up to the middle of her arm for 30 days after her wedding. When the bangles come off, they must be removed by her mother-in-law. Archna wears the bangles to sleep, in the shower, everywhere. She has not taken even one of the bangles off yet. She even lugged the bracelets around while coordinating an Operation Smile mission in the Philippines. The bangles are not that heavy, but they do get in the way of things. Her computer is all scratched up, because as she types the bracelets scrape off the paint.

Archna was married over 30 days ago, and while she was in the Philippines her mother-in-law came to visit, but since Archna wasn’t home the bangles still haven't come off. Archna and her husband are a “love marriage” (as opposed to an arranged marriage) and quite modern so I was surprised at how strict everything was with her. Her husband said that the bracelets served the purpose of showing everyone she is married and is taken. I sort of got upset about that and asked him where his bracelets were so that he could be showing everyone that he was married and taken. In fact, he wasn't even wearing a ring. He told me that he thought he did not need something to show people he was married. I told him I thought that as long as she had to do what she was having to do, then he should be held to the same standard. Apparently Archna's mother-in-law is not scheduled to return to Mumbai any time soon, so her husband has called the mother-in-law and asked if it is ok if he and Archna go to a temple and have the bracelets removed by a priest. They don't want to wait any more.

Archna and her husband, Suhesh. Notice the bracelets. 

We went to the India version of T.G.I. Friday's to watch the world cup.

Such is the culture of India. The domination of male over female is seen everyday, even when it comes to more western couples like my friends.

On Thursday, I went to the premiere of a movie whose cast includes Arnav’s cousin. The movie is called Lekar Hum Deewani Dil. I secretly hoped and prayed that attending the premier might be my way to meet some big Bollywood honchos and get myself a leading role in a Bollywood flick. Well, that never happened. So many stars and celebrities and important people in the Bollywood industry were there. Every second I turned around and saw another familiar Bollywood actor or actress my jaw dropped. The movie was very cute and fun. And I was in heaven.

On the way to the premier… it took 2 hours to get to the movie theatre. Welcome to Mumbai. 

We are off to enjoy the "Bollywood world." 

Armaan and Deeksha, the two main actors/actresses entering. 

Deeksha and her sister (Arnav's cousins).

Deeksha looked beautiful!

Arnav's relatives.

What else have I been up to? Working, and exploring. More of that on the next blog post.

Still sending my dream of being a Bollywood star your way,

Hannah Dobie

Arnav's friends have been so nice in welcoming me and hanging out with me.