It is, I believe, customary to start any piece of travel writing by saying that 'xxx is a place of contrasts'. I would hate to go against tradition, especially when it is so appropriate, so:
Mumbai is a city of contrasts. Incredible wealth is yards away from indefensible poverty. New buildings are being constructed at an exceptional rate while most are unloved and falling down (according to a news report 34 buildings have actually collapsed in the last two years within the city, several with people still living in them). The city is full of cars, but within easy range is a hill fort area which allows no motor vehicles at all. On the pavement in front of a shop selling gold you may well find a small boy selling sandals. There are magnificent beaches, but nothing would persuade me to go into the sea (locals don't have the same problem). It is a deeply religious city, although it hasn't chosen one yet - you'll find small well tended shrines all over the place, as well as churches and temples. Public holidays are selected from each of the main religions. (At the moment cricket is probably the leading religion.) Only one thing has not had a contrast - the weather has been in the upper 30s pretty much every day and dry. Even that is only because I haven't been here long enough - in July there will be more rain in this city than London has in a whole year (and London is not a notoriously dry city).
The main things that have struck me about the city:
- The traffic. The government has clearly spent a lot on trying to make sure that roads are wide, with well-marked lanes, well signposted and with plenty of traffic lights. Drivers are advised to drive carefully and without excessive use of the horn. That money was all wasted. Cars drive frighteningly close together, the concept of lanes appears completely foreign, traffic lights are treated as being, at best, advisory and the use of the horn is as close to compulsory as makes no odds. Many lorries actively request horns be used. Weaving between the cars are pedestrians, push bikes and motor bikes (often with 3 or 4 people on them, women often as sidesaddle passengers), and the roads are shared with cows, handcarts and cattle carts.
- The poverty. When I first arrived I was in a top 5 star hotel. Directly opposite it across the road was the entrance to a slum area that was essentially just shacks made of bits of wood panelling stacked together. My assumption was that that was about as low as it was going to get. I was wrong. Since changing hotels my new drive to work takes me past an area that is essentially just tents over the pavements, where the people live, cooking on open fires. Opposite them it's even tougher, because there are still tents, but there's far less pavement so the living area is much smaller. And of course there's also the area that would presumably lovce to be in the fortunate position of the above groups, where there are entire families just living in the shadow of the underpass, with nothing to cover them. When we go past at 8:15 there's a young man dressed in shorts who is soaping himself down, a small shrine and an entire family that is just starting to get up. This is tough to see, and I hope it never becomes commonplace. I haven't yet been able to bring myself to take photographs of the people on the lowest few levels of the ladder.
- The colours. Women (in particular) dress in spectacular colours and nearly always look smart (even those who live on the streets).The market stalls are also full of colour, both natural from the fruit and flowers and man-made from plastic toys. One of the recent festivals is called Holi, and the main feature is people covering themselves and others in coloured dust and water.
My time here is only halfway through (and it's looking like I may need to come back at some point). It's pretty exhausting here, and I'll admit to feeling a bit Mumbai-ed out. This isn't a tourist city - other places in India are far prettier. That's not to say that there aren't pretty parts - there's quite a few old Victorian buildings that have been well preserved and the park areas such as Matheran are beautiful and tranquil. I'm looking forward to my family coming out and am hugely grateful to technology (Skype is a godsend, the internet and e-mail means I can keep in touch with friends and family, whilst my Kindle allows me to carry a library with no weight, and also download British newspapers to stay in touch with what's happening in the UK) which has made the whole experience a lot easier than it would otherwise have been.
What has made the experience worthwhile though, without a doubt, has been the opportunity to take photos that I would never have had the chance to take at home. As with fishing, the photos I haven't managed to take would have been the best ones (the person who can get a photo to be taken purely by blinking may make a fortune). However, I've got quite a few that I'm really happy with, and that I shall doubtless subject you to on my return.
If you want to see more of my photos, feel free to go to my Flickr account (www.flickr.com/photos/jonathaf). I'm also writing a more detailed blog of my activities and experiences (jonathaf-india.blogspot.com), should you be interested. My e-mail is jonathaf@runbox.com if anyone wants to get in touch.
I look forward to seeing all of you again soon.
No comments:
Post a Comment