Holy crap, the sky is blue

So we're back in Chicago, so I thought I should close out this blog with some reflections...
I'm going to miss my new Mumbaikar pals, eating everything with my hands, the constant opportunities to be out of my element and do something new. Also, colorful clothing and eating a lot of paneer. It's pretty amazing to me that we were nearly 180 degrees of planet away, an experience I'm nothing but grateful for, especially when I think that most people in America will never make this kind of trip.

That said, it's been a pretty incredible 16 hours since leaving O'Hare. Our cab driver spoke English and knew the location we mentioned...and it was an address, something virtually nonexistent in Mumbai. I wanted to hug him. And the roads were consistently paved, and there wasn't constant honking. Generally, it's just so quiet, not to mention green. I didn't really process it while I was away, but the sky was gray every day...between the clouds and smog, I didn't see a scrap of blue. It's just gorgeous here. Also, the farmer's market this morning was awesome...fresh veggies and fruit are amazing. I was sad to find out that the berry stand is not here this year, though, as the farm was rained out and the harvest was not good enough to bring into the city. (Being a farmer is rough, I don't think I'd be cut out for that kind of occasionl disaster.) Overall, it's just an incredible experience to realize how much context there is to life and how hard it is to be in a place where the most routine of activities requires so much thought. Props to people who move to other countries, particularly Asian ones, for longer than three weeks.

This morning on the way to get groceries (walking down a perfectly paved sidewalk surrounded by plants and trees), Mark and I walked down a block that was decked out in red, white, and blue in preparation for their block party. (In our neighborhood, each block has an all-day party at some point during the summer.) Normally, my reaction the the excess of American flag decor and neighbors in red, white, and blue outfits would be to consider it somewhat lame and keep walking, but today I actually thought something to the effect of, "What a nice gathering." Not that I'll be breaking out any flagwear myself, but I find myself feeling a little bit more love for my country now, not in a nationalistic or prideful way, but in an appreciative way that comes from having been away. It's home.

A religious (and commercial) experience

The tour of some of Mumbai's markets yesterday was a major highlight of this entire trip. In just a few hours, we experienced a lot, so hang in there while I recount...

• The first area we walked through was a mainly Hindu area, and one of the first places we visited was a temple devoted to Krishna. We got to hear some chanted prayers, and our guide, Sandhya, told us about the Hindu zodiac and associated deities. We also saw some cows living in the temple grounds (Krishna is associated with cows.) There were also numerous shops selling devotional items like prayer books, small shrines for in-home use, and all kinds of decorative garb, crowns, and jewelry to deck out your Krishna figure at home. Sandhya got a kick out of showing us the dress-up items and compared it to dressing a Barbie doll, which I appreciated as a former Barbie aficionado. We didn't get to see Krishna in the main temple, though, because it was still during his afternoon nap (no joke). Sandhya said that he is treated as a member of the family, so the same courtesies (like nap time) are paid to him as to others in the household.
  
• We also saw the rebuilding of a Jain temple, which was intricately carved in marble and was quite a stunning sight coming around the corner. Something I find amazing is that the temples and other religious buildings are in the middle of other buildings, so they don't have full, street-facing facades. They are either tucked away in the middle of some open-air walkway or towering above the surrounding businesses, often with gates at the street through which to enter the interior.


• We stopped by an animal sanctuary, which mainly houses cows but also injured pigeons, ducks, and geese. Sandhya didn't want to waste a chance to pay her respects, so she got some grain balls in a dish (not sure what they're called, something other than grain balls for sure, but they were about 2-3" in diameter and wet), and we helped her feed the cows. It was difficult to get to the small ones, as the big ones would nose them out of the way. Unfortunately, as it is a sacred site, we could not take pictures once inside, so you will just have to go visit to check it out. I did get a photo of the cow-themed frieze above the entranceway:

Another interesting thing in this area were the resident astrologers who live in small cubicles along the market path and provide horoscopes for a fee and/or an offering of clothing or some other gift. There are stalls across from the astrologers' cubicles that have clothing that people can purchase as offerings. At the end of our Hindu devotional tour, we visited the Mumbadevi temple, which was built in the 18th century. Mumbadevi is actually the goddess after whom Mumbai is named, so it was nice to see the city's namesake. Once again, we could not take pictures once inside, but we got a few snaps from outside. It really doesn't do the temple justice, though, as it's very intricate and colorful, with a great deal of work in silver as well. One of the more entertaining things that we saw was a priest sitting at the shrine of Anna Purna (another goddess venerated within the temple), talking on his cell phone. Sandhya noted that it was a shame that we could not capture that on camera. I was just grateful that the Hindus seemed so open to having us come through their ritual spaces, and Sandhya was very helpful in explaining background and beliefs. She made an offering to Anna Purna while we were there and received in return a prasada, or a portion of the offering that has been blessed by the goddess.

• The hordes of people everywhere, the lack of a firm concept of "personal space," the extended families living close together in small living spaces (Sandhya said about 10 people in a two bedroom apartment was not out of the ordinary), and the multiplicity of deities in Hinduism all seem to be different pieces of the same picture. I am realizing just how individualistic the US is, and how the concept of "many" is something that we don't really comprehend the way that it is here.
  
• We stopped by a restaurant for a snack and some tea (which here comes spiced and sweetened, with milk mixed in as well.) We had dosa, which is a large rice-based crepe filled with a spiced potato mixture, some potato fritters, and gulab jamun for something sweet. The tea was lovely and had lemon grass and mint in it -- very refreshing.
  
• We got to see markets for jewelry, kitchen cookware, spices, and clothing/fabric. We actually didn't buy much because we were a little overwhelmed, but we did get some masala spice for tea. I got a picture of the man who sold us the masala -- he held it up for us to smell first, which was nice. I think he actually liked having his picture taken, as after the photo was captured he smiled, not realizing that I'd already taken it.
• We also saw people selling pottery, as well as a man whose specialty was sharpening knives (see photos of both below.) There is a ton of entrepreneurship here, and people set up stands in front of all of the shops. Most of these makeshift shops are not legally licensed, and we saw areas that had temporarily cleared of vendors due to random municipal patrolling, which prompts a quick cleanup and getting out of sight until the authorities have passed.
• We also got to see the Jama Masjid mosque, which is over 200 years old. The sect that maintains the mosque is the Konkani, and they are easily distinguished from other Muslim sects by their dress. Rather than wearing entirely black clothing and veils, the Konkani women wear distinctive and colorful embroidered clothing, which you can see in the picture below. Of course, we were not allowed inside the mosque since we are not Muslims, but it was beautiful from the outside.
• On the drive away from the bazaar, Sandhya pointed out a Parsi (Zoroastrian) fire temple as well. I was pretty excited to see it since the Parsi population is quite small and I read a book a few months back in which the main character was a Parsi. (Sadly, our pictures are all blurry since we were in the car.) Sandhya explained that Parsis are a pretty exclusive group -- not only can you not enter their fire temples if you are not a Parsi, but if a child is born to a Parsi mom but the father is not Parsi, then the child is not accepted as Parsi.


• Also in the car after the main part of the tour, Sandhya was sharing that she has been helping her brother's wife find a bride for her son (she said that about 80% of marriages are arranged in India.) The brother's family lives in Thailand, so finding a good Indian match is proving difficult. I guess they've signed on with a professional matchmaking service online, and they've found a few prospects and arranged for meetings, but to no satisfactory end (marriage) so far. Mark and I found it really interesting that not only are parents doing a lot of the steering with marrying off their children, but they are doing what American singles often do and enlisting the help of the internet to help them network.

Goodbyes

Yesterday was my last day in the office here, which made me very sad. Everyone "surprised" me with cake (they had been acting suspiciously all day, and I've picked up on their tendency to buy cakes for events like birthdays and goodbyes, so I wasn't shocked...but it was still nice!) I told them all that one of the things I will miss most will be eating with my hand, which I don't think will translate well back in Chicago. Here's a picture of one of the cakes -- it is signed from DC, which is my department (Diagnostic Consulting), and Sujoy decided to personalize it by carving my initials into the frosting.


They also gave me a round metal wall hanging (about 10" in diameter) with Ganesha on it. It's fantastic, and I said that I'd hang it in my entranceway at home. Nitesh then informed me that this is the best place for it, as Ganesha is the first god that they pray to when they are saying their prayers, and the info sheet that they gave me on him also says he is the god of beginnings.

I managed not to tear up until I had basically gotten to the front door of the office, so only Sujoy and Abu actually saw me red-eyed. I hate my tendency to cry at goodbyes and other dramatic moments...it can be pretty out of control at times. I'm hoping that they will all continue to keep in touch and email.

Finally, here's a picture of the group:

In the front row are Sujoy, Abu, me, Hari, Indranil, and Biswarooop; in the back are Pranita, Nitesh, Mayuri, Brijesh, Pallavi, and Uma. Pranita and Pallavi kindly added some decorative touches to Sujoy and Hari's heads. :)

Today Mark and I are going to take another tour, this time of some markets, where hopefully we won't be too overwhelmed and will manage to get some more souvenirs. I'll report back on how it goes!

Drinking tea and crossing the street, among other challenges

I think I may be a tea thief. Today, as I was leaving work, the man who brings tea to everyone at various points during the day stopped me and seemed to be asking for something, but I didn't understand. Hamid, my driver, talked to him and the man left. When I asked Hamid what he had wanted, he said that he wanted money for the tea I've been ordering. For some reason, since the guy has not requested money from me since I've been in the office, I figured the tea was an office-subsidized phenomenon (like soda is in Chicago.) But alas, it is not, and I'm not sure if I have a weeklong-plus backlog of tea money that I owe him, or if my coworkers have noticed that I don't get the system and have been paying for me (a source of this suspicion is that they sometimes won't accept my fair share of lunch that we order in, which is silly to me since I can expense it.) So tomorrow I'll have to ask and find out. I feel really bad, though -- I don't want to be the jerk who won't pay for her 3 cups of tea a day.

This kind of misunderstanding makes me wonder whether I'm just totally clueless and being rude all the time, and it makes me crave my home context where I don't have to question how I am expected to respond, and social life makes a little more sense. Fortunately for me, I have been surrounded by English speakers for most of my stay here, so they've made life easier for me. I asked Hamid today how many languages he speaks, and the number is 5: Urdu is his mother tongue, and he also speaks English, Hindi, Marathi, and Arabic. And he's a driver, not a professional interpreter or some such glamorously multi-lingual worker. Unbelievable.

For those who are interested, I read up on Urdu on Wikipedia as well. Very interesting: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Urdu

For those who refuse to click the link, Urdu is notably the official language of Pakistan, and "it developed under Persian and to a lesser degree Arabic and Turkic influence on apabhramshas during the Delhi Sultanate and Mughal Empire (1526-1858 AD) in South Asia." It is apparently somewhat similar to Hindi, so Hindi and Urdu speakers can understand each other fairly well. I ride by a huge, beautiful mosque each day on the way to and from work, and attached to it is an Urdu school. I need to try harder to get the picture of this place, which has been eluding me behind traffic and blurred windows.


On a totally different topic, I keep forgetting to mention another funny thing that I have seen repeatedly during my commute. It's possibly the worst name I've ever seen for a restaurant: Aaswad. That's just unfortunate. And hilarious.

To end, I will leave you with a video I took of crossing a busy street, Linking Road, yesterday. It doesn't capture some of the vehicles that were inching up behind us (although you can hear them honking), but it helps illustrate the frogger scenario that Mark has described:

Space and Time

It's been a couple days since I've written...this is going to be a little piecemeal, I think.

Yesterday, Mark was not feeling well, which was confusing since we ate identical dinners the night before. We did manage to get out and shop around our neighborhood in the morning and early afternoon, picking up some souvenirs before it's time to return to Chicago. There were a lot of beautiful textiles and artwork to choose from, so it was difficult to make up our minds at times. I think that each shop must have double the concentration of salespeople as we do in typical stores in the US. There is always someone following you, watching you, standing between you and what you are trying to look at. To Americans, this can be trying, since I think we have a much stronger sense of personal space than anyone here seems to. With so many people competing for a limited amount of space, though, it makes sense that people are more generally assertive and less territorial. I've been pretty surprised at times by the way people do what I consider "cutting" in line (one of the first social faux pas we learn to avoid as children in the US), but to them the logic seems to be, "I want to be at the front of the line, you're between me and the front of the line, so I'll go around you if it gets me there faster." It's an everyone-for-themselves sort of place, so you can't be too shy. At times, the introvert in me longs for the relative privacy and indifference of the people of Chicago. It will be nice to walk down the street without constantly dodging people and vehicles of various types that are competing for the road!

Along the lines of coming home, this week is going to be pretty bittersweet for me. I feel like there's so much more to see of India, so it's a shame once we've come so far not to see the northern part of the country with the Taj Mahal, the Ganges, Delhi, the Himalayas, tea growing areas like Darjeeling and Assam, and other things I'd love to check out. But we'd need months to cover it all...I hope that we get to come back someday. I actually had a pretty emotionally disturbing dream on Friday wherein I had to tell everyone at work goodbye, not knowing if or when I'll ever see them again. In the dream, I think I even told someone, "Just tell everyone that I love them," which is pretty melodramatic and overstated (as my dreams tend to be at times, perhaps making up for my lack of overt emotional reactivity in most of life.) But when I woke up and realized that I really might not see any of my coworkers again or at least for a very long time, and that moreover we will also have few common waking hours in which to correspond via instant messenger, I was pretty bummed. It's going to be hard to say goodbye, but we still have a few days to enjoy first.

On a happier note, I had McDonald's for lunch on Friday (my coworkers' choice, not mine). I got a McVeggie Burger with cheese and some fries, which were all pretty tasty. The yellow cheese and the fries were exactly as in the US, so there was some element of comfort food even though I haven't eaten at McDonald's in the US in probably a couple of years now and consider it basically repulsive. My favorite localized item on the menu was the "Paneer Salsa Wrap," which I didn't get a chance to try, not that I'm terribly disappointed. The fact that I had McDonald's for lunch makes me even more surprised that Mark was sick and I wasn't yesterday -- I kind of felt like I was the one inviting it, eating a veggie burger with mayo and lettuce.

Also Friday at work, someone decided that we should all wear green (this was provoked by 3 of the women accidentally coordinating orange outfits on Thursday), so most of us did. I have something close to a group picture on our "Green Day", but we all thought we were waiting for some stragglers, so the snap didn't capture everyone, and those in it are mostly not paying attention (I am personally picking my fingernail, not my typical photo pose). On the front left is Hari, behind him is Pallavi, and then working to the right we have the top half of Pranita's head, Mayuri, Ashwini, Harshada, Nitesh, Uma, Brijesh, and Indranil -- and then again in the front on the right is me. The ones who are missing are Abu (who set the timer for this photo but didn't get in the picture -- he's basically the group photographer), Sujoy, Biswaroop (he was out of the office), and Purnima (who was busy).
I'm hoping to get a more complete and formal group pic this week...

Switching topics entirely, some evenings here, Mark and I have flipped on our Indian cable TV in search of something that is in English and that will hold our interest. A few nights ago, we opted for an early 90's version of "Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde" starring Michael Caine. This was a mistake, of course, because it was a terrible movie. But I feel like it provides a fairly apt contrast between Whitney when in air conditioning (Jekyll) and Whitney outside (Hyde). It takes about 5 minutes for me to go from congenial and adventurous to angry and aggressive. Unlike in the movie, though, this is a basically involuntary process for me, unprovoked by the consumption of strange chemicals.

To end, I'll share a video that I took just a little while ago by our apartment as we were returning from brunch (we found a place that serves french toast and waffles, which were glorious.) A group of boys in the neighborhood were playing a game of cricket in the street, and each bowl had to wait for several autos, cars, etc. to pass through. The video shows the intermission between bowls and a quick play before another auto buzzed through.

A 25" Pizza and Props to Hamid

Today was good. It involved a 25" pizza that the restaurant didn't have an oven big enough for (not sure why they advertise a size they can't accomodate, except it did intrigue us enough to order it.) Anyway, it came in 4 pieces, each baked and packaged separately. We made Pranita, who is tiny, stand by it for a picture, with dramatic effect:


Also, over lunch yesterday, I learned an interesting thing from Hari about South Indian names. I guess in South India, many people don't have last names, just first names and one or more initials signifying the names of their father, grandfather, and/or hometown. So Hari's name is V S Hariharan, but since nobody who keeps records allows for him to be called simply, "Hariharan," he had to enter "V S" as his last name on his employment paperwork, resulting in his name being listed in the company directory as "Hariharan Vs," which he noted looks like it's missing the person he's facing off against at the end. Similarly, Sujoy's name is just Sujoy, or actually J Sujoy.

A funny thing that I passed on the way to work the other day was a shop offering funeral arrangements, which had a sign out front with the irreverently punny line, "Dead Center of Town." I unfortunately did not get to snap a picture, but here's a less amusing fabric shop storefront, to give you an idea of the open-air shop setup that is so common here:

Also on the way to work the past few days, I've noticed a lady who sits on the sidewalk at a particular intersection each morning with a pile of grass and a cow tied to a fence by the road on either side of her. Passersby from time to time stop and pick up some grass and feed it to one of the cows. I don't totally understand the ritual, but it's one of the more idyllic-seeming sights during my morning commute.

And since I mentioned him yesterday, I snapped a photo of Sri Sai Baba as a decal on the back window of a cab. The cabs are quite decorative here and often have decorative painting or decals on them. Sri Sai Baba's face didn't come out very well, nor did the much smaller Ganesha to the right of him, but you get the idea:


Up until now, I've talked more about my commute than about Hamid, my driver. I have had an ever-increasing sense of weirdness about having a driver, especially as I've seen the class interaction dynamics here. People in service positions are spoken to pretty brusquely, so I find myself wanting to hand Hamid cash and bring him cake whenever I see him. This to make up for the class system in general, but more specifically to make up for the fact that he has to come pick me up every morning at 8:30, drive me through aggressive traffic for 45 minutes, then park the car and find something to do with himself until 6:15, when I am ready to leave and he drives me back home for 45 minutes to an hour. Oh, and did I mention he leaves the car here and (I assume) takes public transit home after that? Ugh. And on top of that, he's really nice and doesn't seem to resent me at all. One of my favorite things about riding with him is that he is really helpful in suggesting photo opportunities, and he is especially engrossed with the huge bridge that is under construction to connect the suburb of Bandra to the Worli neighborhood in Mumbai proper:

It may not look super impressive in this photo, as it's off in the distance and kind of hard to see (the guy in the foreground doesn't help matters), but it's pretty huge, and the city doesn't really have any other bridges on this scale -- so Hamid's fascination is understandable. Plus, it might just make the repetition of driving back and forth from Bandra to Parel a bit quicker, or at least different. Hamid's been driving for various people in my company for the past few years, so he gets bored. An alternate route can't hurt.

To end tonight, I thought I'd leave you with one of the funnier billboards I've seen here. It's for a new show on the Sony network called Arslaan. The online synopsis I found says, "It is a coming of age magical story of a young boy who goes on to become a Superhero Arslaan! It is set in the olden times, 3000 years ago in the past. His quest for identity takes him on a journey that brings out the superhero within. His supernatural powers ultimately help him in vanquishing the evil lord (Zaakfaar), to reinstate goodness in this world.” As far as I can tell, it involves plenty of long-haired men in loin cloths and capes swinging maces at each other. What more could you ask for?

Translations, Explanations, and Good Luck

So the training presentation went fine today, which was a relief. I'm happy right now to have an evening free of work, as I've generally been spending evenings preparing for the next day's training.

A few more tidbits for the day:

• There are a lot of buildings in this city that are under repair/maintenance and have scaffolding grids on the outside. The thing is, the scaffolding is all some kind of sturdy natural cane or wood, tied together at the joints. When construction workers are on it, it looks kind of like a jungle gym, only way scarier.
• A lot of the cargo trucks and other transport vehicles have the phrase "Horn OK Please" painted above their back bumpers. In this city, I think the loudness of a horn is a main criterion when considering a new vehicle purchase, because people constantly honk at each other and jostle for position on the road. I guess the less-than-fluent plea on the trucks means something to the effect of, "I know I'm big and you can't get around me, now kindly lay off the horn."
• Also, people here drive very small cars. They are certainly better for maneuvering through traffic, but it also makes sense given the large number of cars contributing smog to the air. I find myself noting how luxurious mid-size Hondas look.
• One of the kitchen cabinets has a small poster of a saint in the back, with the name Sri Sai Baba on it. Since I like to know who's hanging out in my cupboards, I looked him up on Wikipedia: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Sai_Baba_of_Shirdi I think it's interesting that he's held in high esteem by both Hindu and Muslim faithful. Since seeing him here, I've seen his image all throughout Mumbai -- in store windows, at desks, etc.. I think I have actually seen more of his likeness than of Ganesha's, which has been surprising to me.
• The swastika produces a visceral reaction in Americans, but as many of you know, it is a symbol of luck here in India ("swastika" is Sanskrit just means a good luck charm/object), and it is also all over the place. I swear, though, the other day, I saw a guy with a bright red t-shirt with a white circle in the center and a black swastika inside the circle. Maybe that man had the inverse experience that Americans have upon seeing the swastika, with his main reference point being the positive application of the symbol. So when he saw the Nazi flag version, which unfortunately in the West connotes a genocidal regime, he thought, "Oh, that's nice. I'd like to wear that." In his defense, though, who wears a Nazi flag t-shirt? I guess I don't know any die-hard skinheads, but this seems like a pretty rare taste even among the fanatical.
• Biscuit = cookie, hotel = restaurant, petrol = gas. I've heard these before, but these are some of the word transitions I've used most regularly here.