The traffic had to be witnessed to be believed; it wasn’t that there was so much of it rather that there were so many people doing it so badly and on inadequate roadways…our bus was given a police escort to get thru it…we either were stuck in gridlocked traffic hemmed in by other busses and trucks or whizzed around the city so fast that photos were impossible (and there were wonderful photo ops: the ox carts, street markets, saffron robed priests talking on cell phones, colorful laundry spread out on questionably clean roof tiles to dry, soldiers with machine guns, a demonstration at the ugly, bunkered American embassy, the cricket fields, a striking performance arena donated by Sri Lanka’s new best friend China, etc. ).
Sri Lanka is just coming out of very bad times but at record speed (for ex., the per capita income has more than doubled in the past few years). A tsunami in 2004 left about 30,000 dead; our guide told us horrible stories about the disaster (and it sounds like only about 10% of the money donated from other countries made it to the people in greatest need). It hit over a weekend with many families at the shore (there are miles of golden beaches). The tide went waaayyyy out, exposing the ocean bottom and leaving even large fish stranded…so people walked out to look…and then the first wave of water came crashing In (30 ft high and at incredibly high speed); as onlookers went to the rescue, the second wave came in, drowning them too.
Before and after this event, there was the hellacious 30-yr civil war between the majority Sinhalese (about ¾ of the population; Buddhist; speaking Sinhalese) and the Tamils (about 15% of the population and desirous of their own state; Hindu; speaking Tamil). The Tamil Tigers terrorized the country (and did have some legitimate grievances but not enough to justify 70,000 deaths!) but a truce was called in 2009 and seems to be working. Needless to say, this and the damage from the tsunami really hit tourism, a major revenue generator along with tea.
One of the photos I didn’t take was of huge billboards promoting the upcoming visit of the President of the Maldives (where we are not going but listened to a lecture about it anyway). We now know where the Maldives are – just a bit due west of here. The President was the one who staged a clever stunt – holding a cabinet meeting underwater some time back – to dramatically demonstrate where the Maldives are going to be if climate change (and rising sea levels) is not checked. We saw photos of the Maldives – absolutely gorgeous little islands (about 1200 of them, some of them one cocoanut tree islands) where tourism brings in one-third of the GNP (it is a beach comber’s and diver’s paradise). However, it also has some political instability…and so the billboards need to be redone; there is a new president as the one in the photos was ousted by the Muslims (100% of the islands are Islamic) because he had permitted alcohol and spas to come in with the 5 star resorts (only one allowed per island so they are doing something right). But, the brand new president is now allowing the same! (An add’l issue – 40% of the yg people are addicted to hard drugs.)
Back to Sri Lanka: some of the old colonial buildings are still present; the Portuguese arrived in 1505 and behaved badly; the Dutch were appealed to for help about a century later, and then they too got out of hand and were replaced in the late 1700’s by the British who stayed until independence was granted in 1948. In 1972, the country’s name changed from Ceylon to the traditional one of Sri Lanka. The frangipani trees were everywhere and in bloom and lovely…that was the best I could say about the place.
As evening drew in and we sailed around the south of India, and then north to what used to be called Bombay, the Officer of the Bridge came on the PA system and announced we would be starting our anti-piracy techniques: close all draperies if we have any lights on. And by golly, the ship is deadly serious. When I hit the promenade deck (the one now closed from sunset to sunrise) to do my post-sunrise/pre-breakfast mile, I was greeted by six security guards with binoculars posted at intervals along the railing. The fire hoses are unwound and ready for action (presumably to help thwart boarders) and more powerfully, there are a couple of heavily armed professionals aboard for the two weeks run thru here and several LRADs (long range acoustic devices), weapons that would be aimed at the pirate ship to produce an ear splitting sound and pain. Certainly made for a more interesting perambulation. (Later in the day we heard that there has been some piracy trouble closer to Mumbai.)
We arrived in Mumbai (on the west coast of India) at dawn, to witness a very lively port already awake.
Mumbai has had an intriguing past. The Portuguese landed in the early 1500’s and at first thought they really had “discovered” a fine port (there had been local fisherman here, of course, for an eternity). Then they noticed the mosquitoes and – I love this – pawned it off as part of the Infanta Catherine’s dowry when she married Charles II of England. He in turn cheaply leased it to the London-based East India Company which actually ran India for over two centuries. The swamps were filled in and over time, Mumbai blossomed into the commercial center of India. (Vicki, Leslie, Brenda and Kim – a major factor behind this growth was that Bombay replaced the American South as the major supplier of cotton to Britain during our Civil War…remember that Kent State museum exhibit?)
The population is 18 million, none of whom stayed home today. I have never seen traffic like this…and it appears to be a motorized free for all. It was also really hot – the highest temps we have seen – 100 and humid. OUCH! However, it’s a wonderful looking place and much to my surprise, I loved it. Yes, there are a lot of beggars, many of whom appear to be street urchins and many are carrying babies (with bare bottoms – easier to deal with). We did NOT go anywhere near the airport where some of the worse of the slums are (we saw Slumdog Millionaire the other night, worth seeing); these are largely the result of huge and ceaseless influx of the unskilled poor from the rural areas coming to the city to improve their lot and not succeeding. Apparently about 60% of the population live in shantytowns/slums! (Also worth seeing is a sweet American movie called Outsourced, a love story with a lot about Indian culture in it…and humorous.) 
No one, however, did so much as look sidewise at me – tho Bill had insisted I wear no jewelry and be extra careful. In any case, I felt entirely safe and was much impressed with all I saw, beginning esp with the soldier with a rifle who got on our tour bus and scrutinized our documents (this was after all our documents were thoroughly reviewed on board, after an endless queue, and then looked at again at the bottom of the gangway…if the Indians learned anything from the Brits, bureaucracy and the officiousness of minor civil servants has to be high on the list). We learned later that they have added a non-UK twist: corruption is rife; a number of the nice – and poor – Indian fellows who work on our ship were taken aside, singly, by immigration officers at the gangway as they were trying to go visit their families in Mumbai and denied entry unless they paid a bribe. We thought P&O could do something about this but hasn’t. In its defense, it needs to be remembered that this is a very young country, still finding its way. We have gotten very fond of many of the Indians aboard who go out of their way to be friendly. Many are incredibly good looking – one who looks exactly like a dark Ronald Coleman – and Bollywood (the capital of which is Mumbai) has missed some good chances.
First stop: the Gateway of India was built where sea travellers would land…to honor the visit of the first reigning monarch to visit (George V) but wasn’t finished till 16 yrs later; things move slowly here. It combines, as does India, Muslim and Hindu architecture and decoration, and is a favorite meeting place…and hawkers of peacock fans flock here.
Just down the street from it is the Taj Hotel – a glorious building; it was the work of a very rich Indian (one of the Tata family) who had been refused a cup of tea at the best English-only hotel and so built this one – we were told he refused entry to the English and hope that is true but probably not. The mounted statue is a hero of early India, Chhatrapati Shivaji, for whom a number of things in the city are now named (for example, the airport and the no longer called Prince of Wales Museum).
Women street cleaners were out in force – in their saris!
Most women we saw were in their saris. These obviously better off women were having a day outing with their children (and the children’s teachers) in the Hanging Garden. They were playing a variation of blind man’s bluff. Nearby there were children playing in the old woman’s shoe and loving it.
We also saw a few ox carts but not many, and a cow, its owner and a basket of grass in front of some of the temples; the parishioners give money to the owner for a handful of grass which they feed to the cow (which are sacred)…everyone is happy: the cow is fed, the owner gets some money and the parishioner has done a good deed. There are vendors everywhere, selling everything…and tiny stores.
For the poor, one does laundry wherever one can. We saw many many women doing laundry on the sidewalk (beating the wet and soapy clothes against the bare pavement, and then hanging the clothes to dry on the street railings (where they must pick up the fumes and the road dust). If there was a husband present, he was sitting in the shade, superintending. The children were usually playing, darting in and out of curb traffic, begging and all smiles.
Laundry is quite an industry here…tho on the decline with the advent of home washing machines. The site of organized laundry, called Dhobi Ghat, is a feature of the city. Laundry is picked up from one’s home and taken to this huge place, washed, dried, possibly ironed, and returned – without loss.
Akin to this amazing system is that manned by tiffin or dabba (food container)- wallahs (many of whom are illiterate). People going to work (my guess is esp men) don’t like to carry their lunch with them. So, it is picked us at one’s home or favorite eatery and delivered to one’s office – without error! Here is a tiffin service pickup truck en route.
Many of the trucks are elaborately decorated and brightly colored. (Swatikas are a symbol of good, nothing to do with Nazis.)
Leaving the Hanging Gardens (not all that great and they are terraced gardens), we passed by the Tower of Silence. Our guide was a follower of the Zoroastrian religion, aka Parsi (they came to this area 1600 years ago from Persia/Iran). She told us about their ceremony when someone dies. The body is placed on the top of what looks more like a well wall than a tower; the vultures eat the flesh; and then the bones are pushed into the well which is full of acid. Bill found this disgusting but the religion is big on ecology – and this practice certainly supports the cycle of life and death. Whether a great idea or not, there is a serious vulture shortage in Mumbai due to habitat destruction. Our guide said she has had many long talks with the priests – who are adamant that anyone NOT being dispatched in this fashion would not go to heaven…but many of the Parsi are choosing unsanctioned cremation. I asked if some enterprising person has not thought to raise vultures; the problem is that vultures are not like homing pigeons (one would think they could keep them tethered). Anyway, what an unusual problem.
We visited more temples, one of which was Hare Krishna which took me back 50 years to SF in the 60’s and caused our ship friend (Fabienne, Swiss, graphic designer/teacher with whom we bonded at the Sydney Opera) and me to start signing (softly) the main chant. Failing to attain spiritual realization, I took photos instead. The women were working on flowers for an upcoming festival.
We also passed the v attractive British built RR stations which serve all of India and really show what Indian crowds are like (packed but amiable); rails cover the subcontinent and are a cheap way of getting anywhere. Then on to Gandhi’s Bombay house – now a museum. The photos are of his spartan bedroom…note the spinning wheels. (One of the changes Gandhi promoted was to boycott UK textiles in favor of home weaves as a way to foster Indian employment and self-sufficiency.)
The dioramas (must have been forty of them) show the key moments in his life, and the assassination….and there were endless photos of Gandhi with the poor (he preached against the continuation of the Untouchable caste…still going…and took to wearing just a home spun loincloth as it was the clothing of the lowest). And there was a western toilet for those of us with less lofty concerns. (We had watched the movie, Gandhi, and were really psyched for this visit and a deeper understanding of his amazing crusade against the British rule here and in South Africa; it is worth viewing as well for the scenes from all over India…three hours that flew by.)
We also visited what used to be the Prince of Wales Museum (but is now the Chhatrapati Shivaji Mahara Vastu Sangrahalaya)…an overwhelming treasure trove with peaceful gardens spots.
It is a superb collection but, given our total unfamiliarity with almost all of it, would have taken several reincarnations and several guides to comprehend. I said this to the incredibly pleasant folks at the gift shop and they threw in a copy of their Guidebook which Bill and I are absorbing in small bites. The image I find most appealing is that of the elephant god, Ganesha and this is a well done bit of graffiti outside the museum…notice the rat to the left (it always accompanies Ganesha, the god of wisdom, so says the guidebook).
I thought I would be done in by the crowds, the noise and the smells…and the beggars…but I loved Mumbai! I loved the ficus trees that have long roots dangling down over the streets trying to get to water…the old British buildings that seem to be disappearing/crumbling under mold.
I liked the colors of the saris and the smiles of the people. And I am turning into an Indian food devotee. All in all, India is the first of the countries that I would really like to return to at length. Bill has travelled here previously on a number of occasions and was already smitten.
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