The Sparrow Builds her Nest
March 20–24, Mumbai, India
Seasonal Memoir #64
After a four-year hiatus, Tina and I had the opportunity to return to India. Specifically, on a transition visit to the American School of Bombay, where I’ll start in July as its next Head of School.
I flew in from Switzerland, and Tina from Boston, and it was full-on from the start, as you might expect from “Maximum City”. Coming from the West offers some immediate observations about India and the city of Mumbai:
- The friendliness of so many people. I’m not kidding myself, as I’m sure some of that has to do with my role, status, and ethnicity, but people’s friendliness is firmly rooted in Indian culture. It exists.
- Everybody speaks English, even those who clearly had a disadvantaged education, if an education at all. It feels quite shameful (as an American) to be so inadequate with other languages.
- Mumbai has the richest Indians living in its city, a ginormous middle class, and an even bigger number living in abject poverty. There is no way to avoid it (not that we should). I had remembered from previous visits seeing severely infirmed people out and about in public life, but when I looked closer on this trip, I realized that they were being led around by others as a way to make money (donations), straight out of Slumdog Millionaire.
- Continuing in the spirit of do whatever it takes to scrape by, we saw on several occasions people who self-flagellate in order to get donations. I found it fascinating to watch, until I saw a small child as part of the group balancing a heavy weight on her head. Ugh.
- The variety of food: Indian staples (dal, dosa, etc.), tropical fruits, but also food from all over the world. And as much spice as you can tolerate!
- Birds everywhere (are they real?). I’m used to seeing colorful parakeets in Asia, but I was surprised by the number of large black kites circling the skies at all times.
- The tropical climate is just so different from that in the West. You better get used to hot, sweaty, and cool transitions. The mornings and evenings are sublime.
- The importance of the beaches, not just as a recreational area (accessible by all), but as a place for washing, doing laundry, and defecating (unfortunately, for many, this is the only option).
- Traffic! So many motor rickshaws, and cars, and buses, and motorbikes, all trying to get where they are going first. And when being driven (Westerners are advised not to drive), it’s best not to watch where you’re going. I have no idea how you can constantly be inches away from other travelers, yet never collide. Masterclass.
- In the ultra competitive world of retail, I had to laugh when I saw one clothier advertise a “100% discount” on some items. Now that’s a deal!
In mindfulness practice, it’s common to reiterate the fundamental point that life is our practice. Traveling offers the opportunity to try and close the gap between Buddhist psychology and unskillful behavior during this stressful endeavor. Perhaps excited by the anticipation of the trip, I was more calm than usual on the way to Mumbai (not sure why), despite continuous challenges thrown my way:
- Not having my visa and other important documents printed, and needing to go into school to print before heading to the airport. A stubborn printer didn’t deliver, so I had to do regular check-in (45 min longer than the bag-drop line).
- Missing my bus to the train because I was standing at the wrong stop (which was 200m away). This cost me 30 minutes.
- Making four transfers, with luggage, to get to the airport.
- Navigating an absolute mob at customs, with a young person (American) telling me to “get to the end of the line”, though we arrived at the same time to the end of the line (I chose to let it go, and not even respond to this cheeky fellow). It was Switzerland, after all, so at least it was an orderly queue.
- Riding a packed shuttle to the terminal (what Covid?).
- Abandoning the coffee line, as it was too long (not exactly a tragedy).
- Navigating a LONG stamping line (checking Covid docs). Each of the two lines had Indians cutting the queue at the front in order to get special service (e.g. “we have a 70 year old traveling with us” (and then handing over documents for all 10 family members)). The Swiss passengers were losing their minds over this cultural phenomenon, which is completely normal in India.
- The flight took off 90 minutes late.
- Drama on plane with a child hyperventilating, and a dozen Indian passengers either gawking or playing aunty (the child’s parents were not on the flight). A doctor (Indian, also) eventually intervened and helped the child, though the flight attendants were losing their patience with parents not controlling their kids, who wanted to see what was going on.
- A man behind me watching a violent video with the sound up and no headphones (clueless).
- Headphones not working; iPad not loaded properly; not sleeping → just staring at the wall. :) Again, not a tragedy.
The journey back to Switzerland, after an incredible visit, offered an observation on entitlement, privilege, and caste. I couldn’t miss it. Twice, at checking in, and then going through security in Delhi, a few Indians in regular clothing wandered into the business class queue; the attendants quickly gestured to them to go to the economy lines, without first asking them if they held business class tickets. It was just assumed they did not.
And don’t get me started on the White American who was traveling with a first class ticket who got annoyed when business class subordinates intruded on his security line expectations. People who work in the travel industry are saints for dealing with these clowns.
