Every morning and evening I get to take
Marine Drive to get to work. In the mornings, life is just getting started, people walking to work and getting exercise. In the evenings the boardwalk is full of young couples, I even saw one young man steal a kiss while I waited in traffic. They sit close together and chat, the girls so shy and giggly, constantly touching their hair. Their body language is like something out of a book. Yesterday evening there was high tide and the waves crashed the seawall, spraying anyone within a ten foot radius, sending the couples running in every direction.
I've made it to work and home on my own all week. Always in a black and yellow. Never once getting taken for a ride or overcharged. I'm pretty proud of myself but think its more because these Mumbai cab drivers are gracious.
I woke up yesterday morning with one goal - Pasta, I was missing pasta. Two days ago it was Chinese. I don’t know why. I went to dinner at the Frangipani at the Hilton Towers. The lobby gives you a feeling that important things happen there. Whereas the name suggests a colonial spin, I was surprised to find out that it was in fact the perfect name for an
Italian restaurant.
Leaving the restaurant I walked towards the water right into the filming of a commercial. Whoops. You’d think they would have someone blocking the way into the frame. I think it was for a car, with some Sanjay Dutt lookalike standing next to a gold vehicle with the wind running through his hair.
The Mumbai of 5 Star Hotels is its own experience. Clean, grand spaces with high ceilings, cushy armchairs and smiling, gracious staff. I can’t help thinking that experiencing India that way is so sterile and unnatural. Each hotel in each area feels exactly the same. Although it is a painless day to day in the 5 star world, I can’t help but be thankful that I’m having a much more authentic experience, its posh yes, but authentically Bombay posh.
My success story for this week is that I found a good driver to take me from meeting to meeting in an A/C car. Sundeep. He’s punctual and speaks English. He doesn't charge me too much(I asked around). He knows the buildings I’m going to without needing to ask on the street. He’s made friends with the guard at my building who now lets him park inside the gate to wait for me. The guys at work have his car number and phone number just in case.
He tells me stories of the neighbourhoods we pass and shows me new construction projects and how they’re going to impact the skyline. “ Did you know that Lata Mangeshkar lives here?” He says as we pass a building down the street from mine. “And that Kajal grew up here?” further up the street. I gape in wonder, and then realize that even more incredible is that my Dad lived right down the street from where I’m staying now in the 60s. It’s a strange coincidence, I think.
Labels: Bombay, India
