Eggs in a Basket

A weekend in Mumbai. 


The cozy and flat fit of the bricks was a luxury and one of the few things in India that gave me a sense of home. Together, they made sense of a place that the normally disrupted roads cannot. Sitting pretty on top of the ordered road was a bicycle with fifteen rows of little white eggs balancing off of the backside: something I can relate to.

The church just down the road was comfortable in its surroundings. Modestly beautiful with a colorful and happy interior. Five rupees bought me a pink candle with which I walked across the street to light in devotion and prayer to Mary. There were enough candles to build my life right then and there (candles sculpted as houses, babies, sacred hearts), but they didn’t have a timeline or an instruction manual attached so I stuck to the DIY option.

Just beyond the church lay the Arabian Sea. The black rocks are a transition from the sea to the row of coffee shops across the street; sloppily smeared icing on hot cake. Impulsively, I considered running back to the church to buy a house-shaped candle. I want to live here.

At nighttime, the coastline shines with a gate of lights that keeps the magic of Mumbai tucked neatly inside its rickshaw-free borders. They call it the “Queen’s Necklace.” We saw some of the city from inside a carriage pulled by a white horse with pointy ears resembling the arches on the buildings. Weddings adorned every street with lights and bright fabrics. You don’t have to know the history of the buildings to know that it’s present. Mumbai: the most beautiful place that I have ever seen. 

                              fruit and vegetable market in Pune

            Republic Day celebration at the school across from the center, 26 January

                                                oh hey there, elephant

                                                                    Mumbai

                               Mt. Mary, Mumbai

                                                               Arabian Sea

Durshet

The beautiful program center

rude boy’z

We were first bused to Durshet, a nature camp two-hours in some direction from Mumbai. We wouldn’t know whether it was South or West, East or North; the landscape changes but is somehow all very much the same. It’s very dry, very brown. Like the old beige leather on your grandmothers handbag.

Durshet welcomed us with pink-blossomed trees growing out of deep red clay. Each cabin had a hammock on the porch, allowing you to either swing to the rhythm of the cows on the right or to the song of the singing Girl Guides (Indian version of Girl Scouts) in the courtyard straight ahead. Those Girl Guides put us all to shame with their teeth-gritting games and late night concerts. Durshet was a three day orientation: how to eat, how to speak, how to travel. I thought of it as our first baby step in India; but really, we were just learning how to crawl. The lack of telephone or internet communication was novel in the rural setting of Durshet. As I write this entry offline, sitting next to my zero-rupee balance phone, it’s not so novel anymore.  

As it turns out, Pune has a little more to move to than Girl Guides and cows. Like oncoming traffic and street dogs. There are as many stray dogs as there are slots of time allotted to the taking of tea. Which is good because I really can’t get enough of the tea (only 8 rupees a cup!). Taking in Pune from the back of a two-wheeler, I saw two things: my life flashing before my eyes as my face came two inches from oncoming traffic, and a little man wearing a leather jacket that read “rude boy’z” as he weaved his way through a cluster of rickshaws. I love it here.   

two-faced watch

This morning I brushed my teeth in Ashley's sink. The act of rinsing, brushing, swishing, observing is an act of familiarity and comfort. With only six days left until departure, I was finally brave enough to look to my left. I traced my index finger all the way along the World Map Shower Curtain, from Florida to Pune, India. I was thinking about how many episodes of Say Yes to the Dress I could fit in until Ashley finally woke up. Glancing down at my two-faced watch, I wondered why I was awake at 8 a.m. In six days, it would be 5:30 p.m. I figure one cup of coffee per episode. Maybe about three doses of caffeine? I suppose Life really is measured out in coffee spoons. Soon,  my electric toothbrush plug would be stopped by a converter before being allowed to pass on to the outlet. Will I have to brush with water that has been boiled first? I guess I'll figure that out. In six short days, I will be standing in front of a different sink, with different water and electricity, and different people sleeping in adjoining rooms. Netflix weddings will take a six month hiatus from my life. Probably a good thing. Travelling to India is going to be one, big, adventure, and I just can't wait.