I don't know our exact itinerary, although I know we made them. Every night, before we went to sleep, we planned out our next day.
I know we woke up and went to Barista for overly expensive coffee and muffins. Barista and Cafe Coffee Day are battling it out in Mumbai - they are everywhere, but we don't really like them.
We set off to find the Thai and Singapore Consulates to get our visas for the summer- we knew they were somewhere in Mumbai, but nobody else seemed to know. An hour later of scouring the streets of Fort and Churchgate areas, the last person we asked pointed us directly to where we needed to be. We didn't have the right materials to complete the process - strangely, this was not as upsetting as it would have been if I had been home. My patience level is out of wack here - different things set me off, these days.
For some reason, wandering around in 106 degree weather was not that big of issue, being lost for hours and talking to some of the most useless people, including guards and important security people, was not as overwhelmingly frustrating as it could have been. Instead, we continuously took stupid, vague hand gesture directions until we were incredibly lost in the sea that is the Mumbai business district and had fun in the process. We really can't blame anyone for not knowing. One man even told us he was new to the area, but tried to give us directions anyways. Everyone tries to be so helpful. But many of them don't know or have any clue of the American 24/7 instant help and decision, always knowing how to get in touch or when to be somewhere, because we have better things to do than wander around. We really can't do anything but wander around anyways. We got familiar with the city in the process.
We spent some time in a travel agency-we were trying to decide how to get home.
This is looking out at the hot hot world of Mumbai from the helpful world of flight travel agencies strategically placed at foreign consulates who helped us find train tickets anyways.
No more worrying, not that we were, really. Stopping at that travel agency was by the mere chance of walking to the consulate and deciding that we needed some air conditioning and water.
We left the train station to wander some more. On the way, we found:
High Court
We weren't actually allowed in here from the front, but we snuck around back and walked through the judge's gate and such and walked around all of the levels and spiral staircases, through the men and women with judges cloaks and people struggling with stacks of paper. It is a beautiful place, and amazing too, that everyone was still using it. In the West, places like this would be labeled as World Heritage and put off-limits, but here in India, it is just normal and vital to use everything there is. We aren't sure everyone notices the sometimes incredible surroundings they have and that what they are walking through is historically incredibly important. But who doesn't take what they have for granted?
A staircase of the University of Mumbai. Even being American females didn't give us enough power to step within the gates of the University.
So instead, we walked through the Churchgate train station, got some pizza at a really yummy oceanside restaurant, and met a boy who broke our hearts. From Tamil Nadu, he came to earn money for his mother and two sisters because in his village, he only earned rs 450 a month. Which is less than $10. He was an illegal shoe shiner, because he didn't have a box to shine shoes on, only a brush. He told us that he didn't make much money shining shoes, which makes sense. He walked around with us for a little bit, but seemed intent on following us wherever we went, which while we want to be supportive and friendly, we do not want to wander around a strange city with a strange boy. So Riane gave him some money, which didn't seem to be what he wanted, but all we could really offer and we thanked him for his tourism ideas.
We decided to take refuge at the Modern Art Museum, and did some culturing and cooling off. This we really enjoyed except for some of it was so... modern. And modern does not always equal "good" or "entertaining" or even "artistic." No pictures of this - it was a museum.
We left and I was bombarded by a man without a big toe on his left foot. He just showed up beside me and started talking in really good English and a very fast gait for a man without a big toe, with dirty clothes, and no teeth. He asked me how my day was and I responded rather automatically, "I'm fine, how are you?" when clearly this man had not just walked out of an air conditioned modern art museum with a bag of left-over pizza in his hand. So of course, he responded with his automatic answer that he was, with a laugh, "not so well."
And in my way of not knowing what else to do, I said, "I'm sorry." and I walked faster and crossed the street without looking. Which he couldn't do because he didn't have a toe.
I left him behind without anything but an "I'm sorry."
I am constantly ashamed of my behavior.
We walked back out into the sweltering Mumbai heat, to go wander into the Taj Hotel, seeing if we could afford to eat dinner, or have drinks or dessert here. The result: no. No, we couldn't afford any of it.
But we looked around, did some"shopping," and sneaked into "resident only" sections. It wasn't particularly difficult. Everyone there was a foreigner.
After that, we set off to do some shopping for nightlife appropriate clothing coming back with small puja bowls and hand painted stationary.
We ate dinner at a delicious and adorable restaurant, Indigo, complete with twinkling fairy lights on the roof. We shared everything, because it was pretty expensive ($20 each) and because it was a lot of food that we couldn't eat on our own. And it was just delightful.
I do have an issue with spending money on certain things - food/drinks, or edibles in general, souvenirs because "where else will I find gifts from India?" and other things.
But being in Mumbai really made me not want to spend much money on anything at all.
We walked around to fairy light restaurants, to the lit up Gateway of India, clad in our going out wear, and along the way, we are passing entire families sleeping on sections of sidewalk. Babies are smooshed up against doorframes, men without a leg propped up on a covered vendor table, unrecognizable lumps of clothing lying on the side of the roads, children are begging in the street, running to you, men ask you if you want weed or prostitutes and I can't. I... just can't. I don't have what they want.
I walked around with tears in my eyes the entire trip.
Really, what makes me any different than these people besides my "soul" or whatever it is that makes me who I am being born to a middle class American family?
Or next day was more... picture full and intriguing.
Sorry for the lack of pictures currently.
