Mumbai and Ahmadabad

I haven't written in too long - just haven't been spending much time online. So.

I made it to Mumbai a bit more than a week ago, and it was a bit of a mixed bag, especially at first. I arrived at 5:30AM just coming off of my Goa-inspired personal freedom high into a mission guesthouse, a pre-planned schedule, and a church leader of some sort sitting on the other bed in my room, cigarette in hand and cigarette burns on his blanket. We were both a little confused as to why he was there. It was too early to process such things, and despite the fact that my bed apparently had no linens available for it, I left the room doors open to get rid of the acrid smoke and went to sleep for half an hour. I woke up to the arrival of linens (and more chain smoking from my mysterious buddy), covered the bed, and went back to sleep on it until breakfast. From there, I went straight to a drop in center (run by an organization called Oasis) aimed at helping prostitutes escape prostitution in the neighboring red light district. It was about five minutes away by foot.

I find that most days after an overnight train, especially one arriving as early as that, are a bit hopeless...kind of like walking around in a plastic bag, where all the sounds are muffled, and everything is blurry and distant, and you don't quite feel like you're in the world so much as watching it through a window. I can't answer a barrage of new people asking "how do you like India!??" on a day like that with anything but an apathetic nod and "uh...it's good. I like it." I was not convincing.

It's a great ministry they're running there, and I was super impressed, but...I just wasn't in the mood to appreciate it, I think. Sometimes life is like that. I went on prayer walks with the Oasis staff around the district, watched as they talked to prostitutes, visited the brothels with them and prayed for people, and helped them out with some stuff they needed done at the office. And I felt guilty because I wasn't floored by compassion like I should've been. I felt a bit like an emotional bullfrog, sitting on a log, disinterested in the world, and just watching it pass by with bugged-out eyes.

I spent two days at the drop-in center, helping where I could. The next day I visited an AIDS clinic called JSK, and spoke with a very interesting guy - a Canadian guy whose family had been in India for four generations. We hit it off, I thought, and it was great to hear about what their ministry is doing. I don't have time to go into details of that, but I will say that it was amazing to talk with someone who so well bridged the intense cultural gap between India and the West. From there I got to spend an evening and morning out of the city somewhere. Maybe I'll talk about that later. But JSK clicked with me, and I loved hearing about what they're doing.

Mumbai is connected by these crazy suburban trains, and my longboarding skills finally came in handy for me. I didn't place myself carefully in the rush to get off the train when we arrived at the station I needed, which meant that I was still on the train when the rush to get on happened. Longboarding often involves leaping from a quickly moving platform on to pavement, and that's exactly what was required of me (in flip flops) after I fought through the crowd and disembarked as the train picked up speed. I hit the ground running and would have gone down pretty hard had not an Indian guy, hanging out the door of the train, sort of grabbed my neck and held me up, allowing me to decelerate. At that point I decided that Indians are really super nice people. Now if someone will just explain to me why the trains give hundreds of passengers about ten seconds to get off/get on the train at each stop...

Anyway, I felt like I finally got comfortable being in India somewhere between being...tenderized during rush hour on the train and hanging out the open door, looking out over the city during slack time in an almost empty car. Those are two distinct smells - the smell of cuddling up to about to about ten Indian men simultaneously and the smell of flying past a slum with the wind in your face. I never felt at risk, I never felt like I was going to get robbed, and instead we all just laughed at the ridiculous white guy who refused to buy a first class ticket even though he could afford it.

In Ahmadabad I met up with a wonderful family who welcomed me into their home, and simply got a chance to relax, hang around, do a bit of shopping, and just exist with cool people. It was a recharge that I needed.

I'm in Delhi now, planning on flying out to Ethiopia early on the 1st, where I'll meet up with my dad and sister for about ten days before heading out on my own. My dad's work brought him there anyway, so it'll be a nice chance for us to connect after...well, it'll be six months at that point.

Those of you praying for good health are rockstars - please don't stop. I've gotten sick once in half a year. Not bad. I'm knocking furiously on the desk.