Partly because I'm sick and partly, I believe, because this is a normal reaction, I am at a loss for words to describe Mumbai. Or at least any words that could be remotely original. Driving in from the very modern and sumptuous airport at 2:00 in the morning revealed a surprising number of cars for the hour and an even more surprising number of pedestrians and groups of people strolling, chatting. Every 1/4 kilometer or so on the the new highway spur leading to the airport are security guards posted without weapons -- all within 2 feet of the far left lane. In some neighborhoods through which we passed there were countless people sleeping openly on the sidewalks, not huddled in doorways or under makeshift structures. Atop shuttered street vendor stalls (with hunks of plywood, corrugated metal and who knows what else) perched equally unstable residences faintly lit -- all perhaps 12 feet from the highway. We passed two large wedding venues -- full on Bollywood glitz and glam -- filled with activity, light and sparkle -- and approached the hotel along the wide pedestrian seawall known as the Queen's Necklace. Now it is closer to 3:00 am and the area is jam packed with groups of mostly young people walking, hanging out, dancing. Entering the hotel requires security check with mirrors under the car and inspection of the trunk before the gates open. Once through that check but before I enter the hotel, my bags go through another x-ray device and I am scanned with a handheld device behind a private curtained area for women. Finally, around 3:30 I am in bed and very grateful for this gracious, comfortable western style hotel as I cough myself into a fitful sleep.
Yesterday afternoon, the four of us who'd arrived so far gathered to visit a textile company that works with master crafts communities throughout India for both woodblock and weaving. It is in the home of Michigan-raised woman whose parents emigrated from India. In a 1930's apartment building in the most expensive part of town, Hema is a 50ish, reed-like beauty who moves with grace and speaks with a gentle elegant cadence. Graciously, along with her staff, she welcomes us to the residence where she has lived since getting her Masters at U Michigan, returning to India and marrying. The entire home feels like an expansive art installation -- immaculate yet tinged with some signs of perfectly contrasting decay and perfectly decorated with contemporary and antique Indian art and artifacts. Over the years she has worked with a number of non profits seeking to strengthen traditional crafts producers and now has her own line (Amba -- they have a Facebook page.). We were treated to a small snack of upma, a delicious South Indian semolina pilaf and an opportunity to browse (and shop) her collection.
The onto Kobe for a "sizzler." This is an Indian interpretation of Japanese grill where different forms of protein and HEAPS of vegetables are served on a sizzling platter, drenched in odd sauces. When five of these are on a single table, the steam and smoke are overwhelming. To put it kindly, this franchise opportunity is not likely to succeed in the US. If I had felt better, I would have taken a pictures of this and Hema's home.
Today is an unscheduled day that I am using today to rest up for the next part of our trip as we travel to Gujarat.
PS - As nice as this hotel is, their charges for wifi are ridiculous. Ironically, when we get to our more budget accommodations, it will be available free.
Yesterday afternoon, the four of us who'd arrived so far gathered to visit a textile company that works with master crafts communities throughout India for both woodblock and weaving. It is in the home of Michigan-raised woman whose parents emigrated from India. In a 1930's apartment building in the most expensive part of town, Hema is a 50ish, reed-like beauty who moves with grace and speaks with a gentle elegant cadence. Graciously, along with her staff, she welcomes us to the residence where she has lived since getting her Masters at U Michigan, returning to India and marrying. The entire home feels like an expansive art installation -- immaculate yet tinged with some signs of perfectly contrasting decay and perfectly decorated with contemporary and antique Indian art and artifacts. Over the years she has worked with a number of non profits seeking to strengthen traditional crafts producers and now has her own line (Amba -- they have a Facebook page.). We were treated to a small snack of upma, a delicious South Indian semolina pilaf and an opportunity to browse (and shop) her collection.
The onto Kobe for a "sizzler." This is an Indian interpretation of Japanese grill where different forms of protein and HEAPS of vegetables are served on a sizzling platter, drenched in odd sauces. When five of these are on a single table, the steam and smoke are overwhelming. To put it kindly, this franchise opportunity is not likely to succeed in the US. If I had felt better, I would have taken a pictures of this and Hema's home.
Today is an unscheduled day that I am using today to rest up for the next part of our trip as we travel to Gujarat.
PS - As nice as this hotel is, their charges for wifi are ridiculous. Ironically, when we get to our more budget accommodations, it will be available free.