First Foray

A fan blurs above my head at a pace that seems much too intense for its plastic and metal housing.

Outside, I hear the gentle decay of what was my first Indian monsoon. The rain came slyly - I would not have noticed save for a passing glance outside my uncle's 9th story apartment window. I stepped out onto the balcony and was immediately convinced that this was no normal shower. The rain comes with a gentle yet firm and insistent force. It's beautiful against the background of the coast.

I woke up rather early, or really late, depending on which time zone my head is at. My uncle took me on his morning walk around the defense station. Although a bit gloomy early on, the defense area was already buzzing with activity. Officers, sailors and their wives were strolling or jogging along as my uncle and I walked past the Officer's mess, the Naval Officers Club, swimming pool, gymnasium and along the seashore. The shore here reminds me of San Diego. The visible similarities are probably slim but the calming effect the entire ocean here has on the area is a familiar feeling. Buildings here are nothing like Western armed forces stations are, many are old and faded. The encampment generally has a significant military feel, however. My uncle and I dropped into the stations mandir (temple) before stopping to chat with a couple of officers.

After my uncle left for work, my grandfather and I read the news, chatted about politics and current events here and back home. I asked a few questions about family history, my grandfather's role at the United Nations and his journeys around the world. He told me, name by name, all 28 countries he has visited and has some general familiarity with. His travels have taken him to Thailand, China, Japan, the Phillipines, the United States, Egypt, Western Europe to name a few. There's a wealth of stories there I'm sure, and I sincerely hope to hear at least a few before my stay is over.

Once my uncle's driver returned, my grandfather and I ventured out to a few noteworthy spots in Southern Bombay. Our first stop took us to the Prince of Wales museum. A beautiful old building constructed by the British now houses ancient artifacts. Beautiful works of Indian sculpture adorn the first floor. I looked with disbelief at some of the dates marked on the stone statues of Hindu gods and goddesses, the Buddha - 1st century B.C., 400 A.D. The detail on the pieces was incredible. A thought to the skill and craftsmanship required made my own hands hurt. Another thought as to the incredible age of these pieces makes them seem two million years old if they are two thousand. I stood humbled in the presence of such mythical and ancient beauty. We also took a short trip upstairs to a history of coins exhibit. Equally remarkable was the detail on these ancient trading pieces.

There was much more of the museum to see but my grandfather was tiring so we continued next door to a gallery of modern art. As we walked out a group of about 300 school kids was making their way to the Museum entrance. Blue shorts and skirts, white shirts and sandals made up their uniform. Each kid, maybe 3rd graders, was holding hands with his or her partner, wide-eyed and chatting. Freakin' cute. Indian modern art was fascinating. The use of color and shape of figures had a very Eastern feel. The coolest part: it didn't seem as though you could find any of these colors in a Crayola 16 pack. You might have to go up to the 64 block, maybe the 128. Although my grandfather related that he did not care for the abstract nature of the art, I really enjoyed some of the pieces.

We continued on to the Gateway of India. Constructed to commemorate the arrival of King George of England in 1912, the giant arch resembles the Arc de Triumph in France with an Indian twist and on a larger scale. Directly on the seashore, it sees the departure of several tourists boats and the like. The Taj Mahal hotel, a five star hotel ranked in the top ten in the world, is picturesque in the background. Being a pedestrian here is like playing frogger... with your life. As my grandfather took a quick rest on the sidewalk, I froggered my way to fetch the driver. I found him dozing in the car, parked in the shade on the side of the road. It reminded once again that people all over the world are the exact same. I felt bad tapping on the window to wake him up.

As we drove on through Mumbai, I kept an eye on the several statues we passed. Gandhi, Vivekananda stood tall atop stone pillars in gated parks. Stop and go-ing our way on Marine Drive, I marveled at the ability of our driver, as well as the ability of the other motorists and motorcyclists, to avoid accidents, pedestrians and each other. The way in which all this, the traffic, the cars, the people, the shops, the old buildings and new, all come together to form this city and country boggles my mind.

Before returning to the naval station, we stopped at a shopping center so that my grandfather could pick up some medicines. Although the pharmacy was in a crowded outdoor mall, the shops were neat and the stop was short. I still feel rather conspicuous in public. Granted, I have seen several white tourists who I'm sure catch more looks than I do, but I definitely feel as though I am viewing Mumbai from an outsiders perspective. You can take the kid out of California, but not the other way around I guess. It's also an interesting feeling being brown when everybody else is brown, too. Incidentally, my grandfather asked me this morning what hip-hop music was. I was a bit surprised that despite listening to T.I. vs. T.I.P. for most of the flight, I was hard pressed to come up with a reasonable, thorough explanation. Any suggestions?

Closing thought: India is a land of contrast. A mere 20 minutes after I began this post and the rains have already been replaced by an sunny, slightly overcast afternoon. A quote from my grandfather as we were driving back home - "Anything you can find for some certainty about India you will find the opposite is also true."He wasn't just talking about the weather. Nowhere was this more evident that the 3 km stretch to the base. On one side, as my grandfather pointed out, were the high rises of some of the wealthiest families in Mumbai. On the VERY other side of the street, less than 15 feet, were slums and small, ghetto shops. Well stocked shops, however. Anything you need you can find here. Ads for Mountain Dew and Bed Head hair products adorn the boulevards and taxi cabs. It's beyond me how this city manages to keep running and how everything is coordinated. It seems so chaotic that it might just burst.