I am at the halfway mark of my trip and for the first time I think I was able to really recognize that I’m in India. Even though I’ve been saying it and I’ve been writing about it, last night I could see it. My professor Sonora’s mother is a very powerful woman here in Mumbai. She set up an entire culturally fun-filled event (party!) for us at a hotel in Juhu Beach. Our group trekked down the street to Churchgate train station and jumped on the train that left at 1:04 PM. It was exciting for me, nerve wrecking for others.
The trains here in Bombay are the veins to the city. They are the life lines that keep it flowing while it transports people all over the state of Maharashtra. As we sat there for 45 minutes we saw many people come and go. People of all ages and all classes jumped on and off to get to where they needed to be.
After arriving at the train station we all jumped into little auto rickshaws. Auto rickshaws are this three wheeled little buggies that zip around the smaller areas of India. Just like the crazy cab drivers the auto rickshaws stop for nothing and are reckless to our standards, the only difference is you’re in a smaller vehicle and a lot more exposed… there are no doors. It reminded me of the Rodger Rabbit ride at Disneyland, where the cab jerks you around and makes you think you’re going to crash into a wall and suddenly you make a hard left and your safe.
After arriving at the hotel we had a lecture (because Sonora keeps reminding us that this is an ACADEMIC course) we spoke with independent film makers and learned that Bollywood is actually less than 20% of Indian Film industry. As independent filmmakers they really don’t appreciate the “campy” attitude of Bollywood movies (personally I love it but I understand why and artist of film would loathe them)
After the lecture and “high tea,” which is always around 5 o’clock, and a ritual which I have become a BIG fan of (Samosas and tea before dinner… its genius and SO yummy) we all changed into traditional Indian garb and the party began. We had dance performances and dinner was catered. Yummy fried cheese appetizers. A woman came to put henna on all of our hands and we danced the night away.
In the middle of all the fun a few of us decided to take a break and walk down to the beach. For the first time I let my toes touch the Arabian Sea. It was raining slightly and the wind was blowing and we were all laughing at the fact that we were in India and it was beautiful.
There are things on this trip that I know I will take back with me not only as lessons but things that I can apply to my way of living (hopefully)
There is one thing that I have fallen in love with the most about this culture and these amazing people, and it’s their Spirit.
Just the other day as I was sitting in traffic in a cab, there was a beggar woman sitting in a bright green tattered sari on the sidewalk with her child. With not even a roof over their head or a piece of nutrition on their bodies the two sat there and played. The mother was tossing her daughter into the air and kissing her with so much joy as if it did not matter where they were or who swore at them as they walked by. They had each other and they love each other and that was all that mattered at that very moment.
Throughout all of the hardships and the dark things that this culture struggles through every day they are still able to live and love with such compassion and sincerity. I think that’s why the colors are so vibrant. The clothing, the dancing, the music, the food; everything screams out with excitement and celebration.
It’s a celebration of the moment we are in right now; a celebration of life.
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