January, 15th. Don't forget this date. If you pass it in India make sure you are in Mumbai. It is time the Kite Festival. That was my last image of the city. I left at sunset, and the sky was composed of thousands of kites.
What I remember is the joy of people - adults and children - playing with them. My bus went through the slums of Mumbai. In this city, buildings and the more touristy areas are small islands that contrast with the rest. Constituted by crude houses of brick or zinc, there are in the slums as much variety as the people who build them. Those swaying silhouettes of children in the metal roofs stand out. Trying to master the kite, it seemed a beautiful dance. There, between day and night we don't see the living conditions, but the joy. Demonstrating that nothing is greater than the smile of people.
The same kind of smile that said goodbye to me when I entered the bus. I waited three hours for it to arrive. I didn't feel like seing this city. And how I was mistaken. Within that wait, I saw more city than I could imagine possible. I was adopted by the friendliness of the owners and employees of travel agencies in LBS Marg. A wide avenue in the airport area. "Shops" that are prefabricated stalls supporting local families and dreams. I get candy and stories. Find out how much a person earns and what does the word Jolar (cheater). I find the "king" of Jolars and his companions. More than anything, I find the sheer friendliness and hospitality of the people. How they have simple ambitions and generous hearts. I learn that the unexpected is the theme of a trip like this.
As unexpected as finding a taxi driver who knows other Portuguese and speaks one or two words in our language. That trip to the travel agency was entering the world of my driver. Muslim taxi driver, very friendly and fun. Teach me your way of life and family cohesion in the Muslim culture. Asks me about my trip while describing the city and its life. How his business isn't very good on days like this. Weekends, where people go to the city by car or public transport. Say this while keeping in the same lane for about 4 km. Mumbai has surprisingly straight avenues and no traffic in this Sunday. I have the impression that the city paused for me to see it in the little time I had.
And how it was calm when I arrived. On exiting the station, I find a city of great Gothic buildings and wide avenues. With sidelanes that are ... sidelanes. Meeting tourists who wander in the city's attractions and shpos that are slowly opening. I find that it is a day of marathon. One reason for the lack of traffic. It gives me a chance to explore at my own pace the Avenue Mahatma Gandhi and its buildings. This whole area is a tourist place like any other city in the world. Despite being in India, Mumbai belongs to the "country" of large cities. Which places like Paris or New York are also part. And when I finally come to the Gate of India – a large monument that welcomes those who come from the sea – I know that this city will be very different than I thought. And what I thought impossible has happened: I had adapted to the pace of India.
I felt that when I reached the station. It was four in the morning. More or less the same time when I landed in India for the first time. On that day all was confusion and overwhelming. It scared me, like any demanding place does. Now it wasn't so. The number of people were just that. The area seemed organized and I didn't feel "crushed" when I went out to smoke and was approached by taxi drivers. Everything was simple and easy. The decision to wait for the sunrise was done in the most natural way. Not even the rat that was walking through the atrium of the station bothered me. Frankly, I felt sorry for it. it was crippled in one leg and was limping to get to its destination. Perhaps this is one of the major lessons that have already seized. The respect, instead of disgust, for all living beings.
Don't know if I'll return to Mumbai. It was too intense to visit this place so soon. But anything can happen in a trip. A stay of 3 days transforms in a mere glimpse. And this into an unforgettable experience.
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