Ingenious

Kids in Mumbai seem to spend much of their free time roaming through the streets of Chor Bazaar with home made metal detectors. It is basically a stick with a magnet attached to one end that they drag through the littered dusty streets. After just a few minutes of watching a group of three young boys, they all came up lucky. I recall being given a store made metal detector to help pass the time on the beach as a 7 year old. I have no idea what it cost, but I am pretty sure the junk I found never made up for it. Home made has its advantages.

India's rail system

It is said that to truly understand a culture, you have t spend time on the rails. With this in mind, I navigated my way through the Victoria Terminus to get a ticket for a 12 hour train ride southward to Goa. Upon my arrival, a man was being run through the terminal on a stretcher. He had apparently fallen off the train and was run over. I assume this as I cannot fathom another reason why his leg would have been bloodied and dissected. (apologies for those of you eating while reading). I was told that this happens quite frequently as people cram themselves on to the commuter trains. While I had hoped to experience the rails the way the locals do, I also decided it was probably best for me to get a reserved seat so that I wouldn't have to fight to stay on the train. After getting on three of the wrong lines, I finally got my ticket to Goa. 6am departure time. This is clearly not a vacation.

Afghanistan revisited?

I thought I had already gone to the amputee capital of the world when I was in Kabul, but Mumbai is giving that metropolis a run for its money. As I approached Chor Bazaar, I was greeted by a triple amputee on a roller board. His one arm moved him along, and once he gathered enough velocity, he aimed himself for me and was able to wrap his one and only arm around mine. I understand why Mother Teresa spent so much time in these parts. There is heartache a plenty.

No Thank You necessary

I was out to dinner with a seemingly polite, young Indian man named Amand and he let me in on a little secret. Apparently "please" and "thank you" are considered condescending in India. I didn't believe it at first until I watched how the locals ordered their food and never used the common pleasantries. Could this be? Miss Manners must have never travelled to India. ((A note from linguist Noam Chomsky: politeness is actually built in to verb endings.))  

Welcome to Mumbai

You know you have reached Mumbai when the sounds of life are downed out by a relentless orchestra of car horns.   You know you have reached the city's vibrant center when the aroma is that of an flooded sewer. You know you are a tourist when the written cost of something is "X", but you get charged "X" plus "Y" and "Z".  But I am here in India's southern capital and couldn't be happier. Plus, on my very first night, I was approached for a massage. What I couldn't discern; however, as I stood on the sandy stretch of Chowpatty Beach, was whether I was being asked to give or receive one. In any event, I kept my hands to myself.