The Mumbai Factor

Panoramic view from an apartment in Andheri West

"Do you like prawns?  You should come over for dinner; just knock any time." These were the words of a virtual stranger who I met just five minutes earlier. This was not surprising to me at all. It's my second time in Mumbai, and such interactions have proven to be the norm.

I really like this city, although it took some time to get over certain aspects of it. The first time I came here it was culture shock in its most intense form. The sights, sounds, and smells initially felt like an aggressive assault on the senses. It wasn't until I came home that I began to appreciate it.

Westerners tend to see mostly the not-so-desirable aspects of Mumbai, and this place not typically high on their travel bucket list. Here are some of the reasons: sanitation in public spaces is usually questionable at best, food poisoning is a constant possibility for any newcomer, the working poor are the largest social class, and the traffic situation will make you question reality. 

Still, there's something beautiful about it all. 

One Mumbai resident told me that although she's tired of the dense population and constant risk of illness, there is something about being here that overrides those concerns. Another told me that the beauty of this city is that it pierces your senses so much that you feel more alive than you would elsewhere. It's as if it induces a heightened sense of vitality. 

Man showing showing us a manual washer and dryer in an open-air laundry facility.

I'm not sure if the feeling (or the "Mumbai factor") is inherent in the city's culture or if there's something more to it. Regardless, it's one of experiencing life in its most intense, raw, and concentrated form.

To the average western visitor, Mumbai appears to be a mess of garbage and poverty (I'll avoid elaborating on the poverty because it's too complex and political to even begin here). There is no choice but to become acclimatized, if not desensitized. 

Those who move to this city tend to do so for a few reasons: the seemingly limitless opportunities in many career fields, the around-the-clock energy, and the resourcefulness of the citizens. There is a very distinct and worthwhile sense of presence in being here.It's my second time here, and I feel it more than during the previous visit. Something here gets in your blood and gradually intensifies. 

Social events tend to unfold organically and spontaneously.  I've been to several, and they can be planned as late as a couple of hours before the start time. It's also not unusual for a neighbour or friend to ask you over for dinner a few minutes before food is on the table. You can also knock on doors to visit people unexpectedly. 

Spend some time here, and you'll be able to understand the feeling that separates Mumbai from other cities --- regardless of continent.  You'll find that it's a place where people of all social classes live in the same space, eat the same food, and often take the same public transportation. It's a place where a wealthy person with excess food can walk outside and give it to someone less fortunate. Nothing is wasted here, and people co-exist in both shared space and shared resources.

This can be a very humbling place. 

Most of Mumbai's population is here simply for survival; it's often a live or die situation, with little room for regret. Roughly twelve million people seem to be functioning together as a collective, regardless of personal circumstances or objectives.  It's difficult to articulate in words, but if you ever have the chance to spend some time here and experience it for yourself, do it. 

I was in the traffic most of the time, so I had to get this from Google images. This is exactly the type of traffic you can find yourself in regularly in Mumbai. 

It's not all chaos here. 

There is something very calm in the air, despite the absurdly high population density.  People don't seem to be in a rush. Walk down nearly any street and you will see people simply hanging out, looking around, and taking things as they come. Oh, and the driving ----- it's a superb mix of risk and talent (the only comparable place I've been is Ho Chi Minh city), but still the drivers are calm overall. If the experience of driving Mumbai were transplanted to the GTA, there would be an inevitable epidemic of road rage and hostility. I'm still not sure what's behind the hostility in drivers at home, but there is an undeniable contrast in attitude towards traffic and communication on the roads. 

Fortunately the consensus is that people like it. One resident had previously lived in Toronto and said that people were "just so disconnected there" (nothing against Toronto, but it's a fair observation, and it's probably true of other North American cities too). Perhaps people in these cities feel connected to others based on career field, industry, identity, religion or social stratum, but that's as far is it tends to go. The difference in Mumbai is that the energy, pride, and interconnectedness of people here is natural, unlimited, and all-encompassing. It's a city with an identity that does not need to be manufactured or promoted in any way. I can't fully do justice in explaining it, but hopefully I scratched the surface. Either way, I'm grateful to have been able to come back here. 

Two Goats and Two Guys on a small Motorbike  (left)  /  two Goats hijacking a Rickshaw (right)

Every place has its positive and negative aspects, and the best way to get to know them is to ask the people who live there. In doing this, I've also found out the the people who live in this city have the city living within them to an extent that I've never witnessed before. 

Also, there are goats everywhere. Goats are great. 


Stay tuned.... 

Re-Reading a Good Page: Chiang Mai Round Two

Coming back here was probably the most whimsical decision I've ever made. I booked a flight last Wednesday afternoon and landed in Bangkok the next day. From there I took some very impressive public transportation across the city to the bus station. By sunrise Friday morning I was in Chiang Mai. Within a few blurry hours, I managed to catch up with some friends, get settled in my old apartment, and jam with a couple of bands. 

The following afternoon I was in a house on the countryside, surrounded by rice paddies. A friend had invited me there for a German bbq party. I was a sleepy, jet-lagged mess for most of it, but it was a great time nonetheless.

Doubt: The Inevitable Consequence of Spontaneous Travel 

I woke up Sunday morning in a panic—I just left, barely told anyone, and didn't even book my ticket home. The sketchy Thai energy drink from the night before probably added to this. To make the situation worse, I woke up to what sounded like gunshots, which can make the mind wander pretty quickly in a country that has gone through certain political changes that are best not discussed here (it turns out the sounds were fireworks, which were part of a Buddhist funeral ceremony). On top of this, people at home might find it kind of weird for any guy to just pack a bag and go to Thailand on a few hours' notice (even though Chiang Mai does not align with most westerners' perspectives on this country). Fortunately, I've never cared much for what people think. It was nonetheless a rushed decision, and the seeming ridiculousness of it had hit me hard.

I made some anxious calls home for reassurance, and then went for a short walk along a country road. The homeowner's dog (who connected with me unusually well) joined along. Once I took in the landscape and had some friendly interactions with local people, I was reminded of why this part of the world had occupied my mind for the past year. 

Jack the dog looking out at the rice paddies

Why Come back?  Why Chiang Mai?

Travel is a good thing—whether it's thousands of kilometres of away or a two-hour drive from home. It's a way to step back, put yourself in another context, detach, and reset your perspective. 

There are push factors and pull factors. In short, I found my self in a situation at home in which there was a lot of free time and little to do. I didn't take on the usual summer teaching gig, and it was too early to start preparing for the upcoming school year. Push factors didn't necessarily determine the location, so I'll elaborate more on the latter. 

To me, Chiang Mai is a familiar place, but familiarity is not enough to warrant travelling halfway around the world to stay for just a couple of weeks. Sure, I could have gone somewhere closer to home, but anyone—regardless of age or gender—who has spent time here would easily understand the pull factors. Also, a trip like this is not nearly as expensive as it seems; the costs are cut by eating local food, knowing how to get around, and getting modest accommodations. 

Remembering how to speak some basic Thai has had great benefits. It doesn't hurt to get cheaper transportation by giving the driver the impression I'm an expatriate who knows the deal here. Locals seem to have a lot of respect for foreigners to try to learn the language, and my attempts to communicate often turn into mini-language lessons.

It's currently rainy season, which is actually a pleasure to experience. It rains on and off, so the air is cooler than what I came to know last time around.

I don't want to give the impression that this place is perfect. It's not, but it's certainly somewhere worth revisiting. 

You can't walk a few minutes in the city without seeing temples like these. There are literally hundreds of them.

Highlights: Music, Food, and Friends

This city is bursting with live music. You can see underground Thai rock bands, reggae bands, jazz bands, and metal bands (the plural is intentional) all on a weeknight, and usually within walking distance of each other. This isn't even a tourist thing; it's part of the culture. 

I can't really describe the feeling of walking back into the Pentatonic Rock Bar (a venue so distinct that I wrote a lengthy post about it last year). It's truly a place like no other. Despite being open nearly every night and having countless guests (both foreign and local), the musicians and owners remembered me by name. I've been there a few times since being back, and couldn't help but notice that the musicians I've come to know here have become even more refined and skilled.

Cover Band at Pentatonic Rock Bar

Catching Up

In a short time, I was able to catch up with old friends and make new ones. Connecting with both travellers and expats is not difficult if you share perspectives on life. Reconnecting with Thai friends was also refreshing. Despite some language barriers, the friendships are still there—bound together largely by food, music, or both.

The hospitality of Thai people is consistently over-the-top. After a few days here, the family of a student I taught last year took me for a traditional Khan Tok dinner and show. When I was dropped off, they offered to let me stay at their condo in Bangkok, as I'd pass through there on the way home. 

My food vendors had their own way of showing they were happy to see me. On my first evening back, I visited my favourite food stand, and the whole family who works there remembered me. It was an oddly emotional experience. Now the father keeps texting me confusing emoticons and pictures of parades. And, in keeping with last year's tradition, the friendly couple who makes fresh orange juice continues to teach me a new Thai word or two upon each visit to their stand.

Khao Soi (Northern Thai noodles) and Moo Sa Te (pork skewers with peanut sauce)

Final Thoughts after a Week of Reflection

Travelling and speaking highly of a place so far away sometimes gives the impression that I don't appreciate where I'm from. That's not at all the case. It's important to be grateful for what you have, where you're from, and the people around you who care. I'm becoming more and more grateful for these things as the years go by. It's also important to take opportunities when they present themselves. It was a hasty decision, but a good one. Gut instinct at its finest. 

As cheesy as it might be, I'll end this off with a quote from St. Augustine: "the world is a book, and those who do not travel read only one page."

Not everyone can easily travel, but the quote still holds a powerful truth. 

I've been fortunate enough to see a few interesting sections of the book, and this page is one worth reading twice.  

Alas, I can't stay here long-term, but it's good to be back. 




Next stop is likely a short visit to Mumbai to see my sister and some friends. 



Stay tuned.