First Impression

I left Houston on Friday afternoon for a long flight to Mumbai. I had a brief layover in Newark, NJ before a 14-hour flight to Mumbai. I flew business/first class and was able to enjoy the full experience of luxurious flight accommodations. The food aboard the plane was good and plentiful. I was also able to sleep (6-7 hours) rather peacefully flying across the Atlantic, although I missed most of the daylight hours and awoke in time to see the Arabian desert briefly before the sun went down. I arrived in Mumbai around 8:20 pm IST on Saturday. (Indian Standard Time (IST) is 10.5 hours ahead of CST.) As the plane lowered for landing, I saw the bright lights of the city and lots of traffic on the streets and bridges going the “wrong” way. I could also see a lot of apartment buildings and construction. The airport was also under construction and had signs everywhere asking patrons to pardon the inconvenience. The airport reminded me of the Times Square station in New York. It was very busy and had lots of twists and turns. I went through Customs and received the Indian stamp in my passport. I waited for what seemed like forever at baggage claim and it seemed that everyone from my flight had dwindled away. There was another American waiting on his bags also. He walked over to the area where the bags first come off the conveyor belt and saw his luggage sitting there. He suggested that I do the same, and there was my luggage. Who knows how long it had been there. I exchanged my currency before leaving the airport. The current exchange rate is 39.6 rupees (Rs) for every dollar. I round up to 40, so Rs 200 is approximately $5 USD. I walked out of the airport into what appeared to be an open air market. There were lots of people waiting for passengers behind a small barricade. Half of the people were from hotels or travel companies picking up travelers. The other half was family members and friends waiting on their loved ones. Most of the women were dressed in saris and few of them (mostly, younger women) wore jeans. There was a small dirt road behind the people and gov’t vehicles crossed occasionally. It was dark and dusty outside. There were Indian guards (with guns) sitting at the door not allowing anyone in the airport without proper identification. My name and hotel was not on any of the handwritten/typed signs that were held up. I took off my jacket in the heat and mosquitoes buzzed all around me. I quickly thought of the OFF in my bag that I didn’t think of putting on while I was still in the airport. I quietly prayed that the malaria pills would take care of me if bitten. I waited for almost an hour. I felt like a little girl waiting after school for her parents to pick her up after all the other kids had already gone home. Finally, I saw a white clad man wearing a name tag with my hotel’s name walk over to the barricade. I walked over to him and told him my name. He asked me if I was on Singapore Airlines, and I told him I was on Continental. Apparently, there was a mix-up at the hotel, and they thought I was flying on Singapore Airline. His sign had my name and that was enough for me. I followed him to the crowded parking lot as he pushed my luggage cart. I noted all the vehicles, most of them were recognizable brands, like Chevrolet, Toyota, Hyundai, Suzuki, and Honda. I saw a silver Civic as we left the parking lot and I thought of my beloved Syd(ney), my Civic.

The trip from the airport to the hotel was around an hour and a half. My senses were bombarded as we wound through traffic. Mumbai is the Bollywood capital and is considered cosmopolitan compared to other Indian cities. There were bright billboards and signs everywhere, like New York and London. Most of them were in English, but even those that were in Hindi had recognizable images that allowed me to infer the meaning. Hindi is the official language of India, but English is understood by most Indians due to the British influence. The streets were lined with pedestrians, motorized rickshaws, scooters, bikes, and cars. There were beggars sleeping on the sidewalks with stray dogs curled up a few feet away on busy streets, similar to Tijuana, Mexico. All the stray dogs made me rethink my decision not to get a rabies vaccination. The sidewalks were also lined with bricks. I’m not sure if they were due to mass demolition or if there was a mass public works project underway. There were dilapidated buildings all around used for housing, business, and food stalls. Almost 60% of Mumbaikers live in poverty. The shops and apartments looked like the favelas of Brazil, except they were not on hills. I saw a woman with a pretty lime green sari riding on the back of a scooter with her legs dangling to the side similar to the way women used to ride horses. As we passed the scooter I saw that there was a little boy of 2 or 3 riding in front of his father. None of them wore a helmet. In fact, I saw very few cyclists with helmets. Although there were lines painted on the street, no one seemed to pay attention to them. It was common to see vehicles riding in 2 lanes. The streets were very noisy with the sounds of people, vehicles, and screeching horns. The red lights were treated more like yellow lights that were used for rolling stops. One of my friends likes to use the phrase “organized chaos” to describe some of my hairstyles. I can’t think of a more fitting phrase for the traffic conditions in Mumbai. I’m so glad I don’t have to drive here.

As we crossed the bridge to Navi Mumbai, I saw fewer people and makeshift homes on the streets. We passed luxury hotels and apartment buildings that looked like they were newly constructed. Finally, I arrived at my hotel and was greeted by a very warm staff. I checked in and my bags were delivered to my room. I was impressed by the hotel appearance and friendly staff. The hotel reminds of the hotel featured in Lost in Translation. It looks very modern with bold splashes of color and caters to foreign tastes. It is the only 5-star hotel in the area. I am pleased that I am in a room that meets my wish to be near stairs even though my request was not stated. I’ve developed a preference for lower level hotel rooms near stairs since I began traveling somewhat frequently for business. The reason is two-fold: 1) I like being near the stairs for a quick exit in case of fire or other emergency evacuation, and 2) Being near the stairs encourages me to exercise. Since my food expenses are covered by someone else, I tend to eat more and require more physical activity. Hence, the stairs help me stay in shape. After I settled in my room, I went to the lobby for dinner around 12am IST (1:30pm CST). I was surprised to hear Stevie Wonder’s Mon Cherie Amore playing in the lobby along with other Western music. The hotel has several restaurants, one of which is open at all hours. The food was good and filling. I came back to my room and turned on the TV. It was already on CNBC, so I watched Suze Orman and other local business programs. I also found the BBCWorld network. Those are the only interesting English language channels I’ve found so far. I’m disappointed that the Indian programs do not have subtitles for me to follow along. While I was watching TV, I decided to try out the electric adaptor plug for my laptop. As soon as I plugged it in, the power went out in the room. I opened the door to see if it affected anyone else, and it didn’t. I sheepishly called the lobby and told them the power was out. A worker promptly came to my room and fixed the breaker. He also inserted an object in the socket that would allow me to utilize the plug safely. I will not be unplugging that adaptor for the next 6 weeks. After watching TV for several hours, I went to sleep. I wasn’t sleepy, but there was nothing else for me to do in the middle of the night here. I slept for about 4 hours and awoke bright and early this morning. I don’t feel the effects of jet lag. I looked out the window to get a view of my surroundings in daylight. The hotel is surrounded by a brick wall, almost like a fortress, with sentries standing guard. There is a hill across the street with buildings on the other side of the hill. There is a highway on the other side of the hotel. I don’t see any other shops or tourist places within walking distance. I feel a little trapped in the middle of nowhere. I am usually comfortable traveling alone and finding things to do, but I’ve been told that it is not safe to do that here. When I visited London, my friend gave me a subway map and showed me the train station and I was on my own to explore the city. I looked like a Londoner and generally fit in (until they heard my American accent). If only it were that simple. I’m looking forward to going to work on Monday for familiar faces (and voices). Hopefully, my colleagues can show me around and help me become more familiar with the area.

The paragraphs above were written shortly after breakfast this morning. Since then, I've come to appreciate the fact that I didn't have anywhere to go, as I developed a case of "Delhi belly". I don't know if it was something I ate or if my body is just trying to get accustomed to the new environment. Everyone is warned not to drink the water or to eat the ice. This morning at breakfast I even skipped the pineapples on my plate because I remembered that I shouldn't eat fruit that I didn't peel. However, when asked if I wanted coffee or tea, I requested tea. After taking a few sips, I realized my mistake, and shrugged it off. This is a 5-star hotel afterall; the water is filtered. From now on, I will make my own tea using bottled water. : )