Bombay Dreams

(Side note: the title of this blog was borrowed from a very popular Bollywood tale, a rag-to-riches success story in the form of a musical.)

On Friday morning, I embarked on my first semi-big trip in India, a train ride to Bombay (Mumbai) for the weekend.  I packed my backpack with my reserve American clothes, hopped on a severely overcrowded bus and said goodbye to the village for a few days.  Adios to Gujarat, the only dry state in India, commonly referred to as “the land of no fun.”

When I arrived in Surat, I headed straight to the train station.  I asked probably 26 people where my train was going to arrive, since all the signs were in Hindi, which I can speak moderately, but still can’t read.  After figuring out where to go, I explored the train station and bought some snacks for the trip.  I got Mastana Mango Lays and some Stripe Tease cake (yes, it’s really named Stripe Tease).

At 10:45, when the train pulled up to the platform, I quickly scanned the 25-car train to see where I was supposed to sit.  Since I booked my seat at the last minute, I had First Class A/C seating.  I asked which end of train I could find my cabin and a man pointed to the opposite end of the train.  I took off running because trains only dock for 5 minutes.  I felt like I was in Home Alone weaving through the crowds, hurdling over sleeping people and dogs to find my cabin.  When I got to the end, another person told me it was actually at the front of the train, so I turned around and ran all the way back to the front.  By this time, my train was starting to leave, so in full action movie fashion, I hopped on the moving train, sighed deeply and wiped my sweaty brow, relieved that I made it.

I quickly found an open seat, kicked off my shoes and guzzled some water.  I looked around and I must say, the train was much nicer than expected!  After an hour or so, the ticket master came and collected the tickets.  When he approached me, I handed him my ticket and passport confidently.  He studied my ticket for a few seconds and told me to follow him.  I quickly put on my shoes and scampered behind him, slightly afraid that I was going to be deported from the train or for all I knew, the country.  We walked through several cabins, which kept getting nicer and nicer.  He showed me to a room, a real room on the train!  He explained that I was actually in second class and that my seat was in first class in a semi-private room with a bed and a table.  I restrained myself from hugging the ticket master and I settled into my room with a view.

Four hours later, I arrived in the big city, the New York of India.  The city is roughly 60 kilometres wide and over 21 million live in the metropolitan area, so I was completely overwhelmed.  Thankfully, Carrie, a fellow St. Louisan living and working in Mumbai met me at the train station and showed me around the city.  Walking around, I felt like Mimi-Siku, from Jungle 2 Jungle, a pretty popular movie from when I was little. I was in awe by the skyscrapers, the incredible volume of traffic made up of every mode of transportation and the other westerners! After I devoured an egg sandwich, we went back to her apartment where I tasted my first beer in over six weeks.  That night, she had a birthday party for her friend and roughly 20 other Americans my age came over.  It was so surreal to be at a party, drinking beer and wine and socializing in English!

On Saturday, Carrie was busy, so I was left to explore the city by myself. I went to a coffee shop and drank 2-3 cappuccinos and walked around exploring the Gateway of India, Bollywood and the Grand Taj Hotel.  I took the local trains around the city.  Local trains are Mumbai’s version of a subway, except there are no doors and you hang out the open side, with a death grip on one of the handles.  I also took rickshaws, which are glorified chukras.  It’s an adventure riding in a rickshaw in the city.  The drivers merge in and out of traffic and there is no “out of bounds” on the playing field of Mumbai.  We drove on the sidewalk, weaved in and out of the herds of cows and somehow fit between the narrow gaps between the large semis.  I was only surprised we didn’t drive right under a semi.

Carrie’s friend, Viren, met up with me for a while and took me to lunch at Indigo Deli, one of the most magnificent restaurants I have ever been to.  I had a cheeseburger.  I delicious cut of beef with fresh vegetables and mayo.  I was surprised at how alive my taste buds were, savouring each bite of this food creation!  (Cheesy, I know, but that’s how ecstatic I was to be away from village food) I was so happy to have a full meal that a few people at nearby tables were looking at me because apparently I was giving off similar vibes as Meg Ryan’s infamous scene at the diner in When Harry Met Sally. Afterwards, we walked through the markets and stepped into a corner bar to avoid the rain for a while.  We shared a pitcher of Kingfisher beer and listened to an eclectic mix of Bruce Springstein, Gloria Esteban, Toto and Shania Twain while watching cricket on T.V.

That evening, we met up with Carrie and the other Americans and went to see Inception at the most amazing movie theatre I have ever been to.  The bathroom looked like a New York night club and inside the air-conditioned theatre, we had over-sized reclining chairs and excellent caramel popcorn.  Had I not been so stuffed from lunch, I would have definitely ordered another burger from the concession stand.

The whole weekend was great.  It was so refreshing to get away from the village for a few days and meet other Americans.  They all took pity on me, offering me the first beer.  “You need this more than I do,” or “You live in Gujarat? I’m sorry,” they’d say.  Being away did make me appreciate the experience I am having, though.  I get glimpse into a part of India that most people who travel through never get to see.  But I did realize that I need to get away every once in a while for a taste of the good life.  

On my way back to the village, I rode in the third class compartment.  My previous journey was a distant dream as I went to use the bathroom which consisted of a hole in the floor of the moving train.