The Spice Must Flow

Dearest Rachel –

As I was preparing to head out on this excursion, I felt like I was forgetting something.  Shouldn’t I be recording a “welcome to Mumbai” video from the balcony, like I’ve tried to do most every morning we’re in port?  But I already did one of those yesterday (even if I can’t upload it yet, for reasons beyond my ability to comprehend), so that would be, at the very least, somewhat pointless.

It’s going to be a relatively light day today, I think.  After doing all the sightseeing yesterday, we’re supposed to be going shopping – or at least going to a spice market, where I might be able to pick something up.  

I’d been asked to look into finding “butter chicken spice” by the girls, when I asked them if they’d be interested in anything from here.  Somehow, however, I don’t expect anything to be labeled as such here at the Colaba market.  But I can certainly look; I’ve enough rupees with me that I can be a little frivolous.

I will say, however, that being a single man on a series of tours that include shopping as part of the package is beyond frustrating, in some respects.  We’ve seen sarongs, kimonos, yukatas, cheongsams, qipaos, and saris.  They’d be perfect to dress someone in – but not me, that’s for sure.

I find myself chiding myself for wishing for a human paper doll to get these things for.

After the usual police/military checkpoint, (which even the guide expresses disdain for), we’re on our way. And I suppose it should come as no great shock that we find ourselves returning to the Gateway of India, as it’s not guaranteed that everybody has been here yet.  In fairness, having been here yesterday, I find myself free to go to certain areas of the square that I hadn’t been to yet, including overlooking the harbor, which one I need to send a little bit of you off.

Speaking of being a bit too complicated; our guide talks about it being Election Day on the 20th of April (which is a Monday, allowing people to make a three day holiday of it).  I ask about what I’d heard from our guide in Kochi, and she tells us that elections are held on different days in different states. How that works for a national election, I’ve no idea; you’d think that would sway states that vote later than others. Then again, India’s system is a parliamentary one; each state and region within the states vote for their representatives who then elect a Prime Minister out of some coalition or another. There is no single executive that is voted directly upon by the people. So maybe this timing issue isn’t nearly the issue that I think it would be.

We stop for a moment by the town hall and Victoria Station, and I figure I might as well hop off to take pictures (but not video)

Finally, we arrive at the Crawford Market, our first new stop.  They offer more in the way of fresh produce – in particular, our guide speaks of the Alfonso mango as being “the king of fruits,” a title I’ve heard given out to various contenders to the throne – than actual spices, but I do pick up a few things while I’m there. I try not to be too encouraging to the vendors, however – any sign of interest, and they swarm you. Plus, we’re only given about twenty minutes to peruse the place, and it goes on in several different directions; I hesitate to go too far in any direction, lest I run out of time to return.

We had quite the time trying to cross the street to get into the Colaba spice market.  Unlike the Crawford market, this place is completely open air, with cars and motorbikes going by at all times, honking at you vigorously.  It takes the question, where am I going to go, in order to get out of your way?

She also points out that families come here and wait, sometimes for hours, as the vendors prepare their special seasoning blends. They often make a trip out of it; like an annual pilgrimage to restock their supply for the year to come (as the blends are supposed to be able to retain their potency for at least that long).

It’s nearly impossible to hear what, if anything, the guide is trying to tell us about the manufacturing process when we’re in the middle of it all. Between the motor and the impacts of the grinding machinery and the angry horns of the cars trying to drive through the streets, it’s beyond chaotic. It’s a wonder I manage to get my hand on and purchase a few mixes; whether they will be anything that can be used by any of us when I get back remains to be seen.

Our route back appears to be on a national highway; in any event, we’re well above the surface streets for quite some distance.  Which is strange, as we didn’t seem to be going very far from one stop to another on our way here.  It makes me think that this is a more roundabout way back. Not that I’m complaining, as it allows me to take a few extra photos from my seat on the bus:

You might notice that, while there are some buildings that are fairly impressive, many of them are in states of mid-repair, complete with bamboo(!) scaffolding. Most of the buildings, however, are just run down and dilapidated, far more so than so many other cities we’ve been in. I’m sure that Mumbai is trying its best, but as a traveler, I wonder if it knows what it’s up against, in terms of comparison.

And, of course, once we get back to the terminal, there’s yet another fatigue-clad army who has to get on the bus and scan everybody’s paper, which we all hold up dutifully, being well aware of the drill by now. Interestingly, rather than walking the length of the bus and examining each and every one of us in our seats, he does a cursory glance around before nodding and getting off the bus and waving us through. It would seem even the folks tasked with the assignment find it somewhat excessive. I will say it makes us feel less than welcome, as though we were some sort of burden for them to host.

Well, they’ll be glad to know that we’re on our way, and based on what I hear from guests who say anything about it, they won’t have to worry about any of us returning. Even those that had a reasonably good time are as happy to be leaving as they were to arrive. So congratulations, India; you’ve gotten rid of us.

Anyway, that’s the last of solid ground for a couple of days; we’re off to the Emirates, now, and getting that much closer to the end of this trip. And with that being said, remember to keep an eye on me, honey, and wish me luck. I’m going to need it.