Out and About Mumbai

Auto rikshaws seem to be the most popular transport in Mumbai and they permeate the roads, flowing like blood cells through arteries and capillaries, filling every available gap, weaving through people, dogs, motorcycles, bicyclists around hundreds of other rikshaws, dodging the endless potholes, construction and road hazards, narrowly missing everything by fractions of an inch including oncoming traffic. Everyone beeps constantly but no one gets out of the way. The occasional traffic light merely serves as a suggestion as intersections invite a non-stop game of chicken, the drivers all pushing to be first, driving around anything and everything in front of them, slowing only if a collision is truly imminent. The only apparent rule is don't hit anything and it's astonishing that no one collides. Amazingly, the drivers are completely relaxed, sitting half cross-legged, not flinching for a moment, rarely noticing close brushes. Major intersections invite gridlock of monumental proportions, freezing hundreds of rikshaws as peds, bikes and motos squeeze through the remaining spaces. Beggars wander about looking for hapless foreigners and stand there pleading, and looking pathetic, our uncomfortable interaction providing brief entertainment for the rikshaw drivers. Yelling and more beeping ensue and eventually we're off again, like there's a race to be won and I hang on. Peter has grown used to it and sits casually, as if in a cafe having his tea as we cruise, weave and bump along. He usually knows where we're going and yells at the driver in a mix of Hindi and English to turn or stop, typically having to repeat himself several times until the driver finally understands and reacts. If we blow by our turn (regularly), the driver just flips a U turn in full traffic or hangs a quick turn down the next narrow vendor lined alley, dodging old men and dogs wandering across the road as if the traffic doesn't exist. Small children stand in the middle traffic, holding the hands of even smaller children as rikshaws and other vehicles flow around them while they wait for a gap. Peter knows good places to eat and have chai, so we sit and relax between frenzied trips and watch and listen to Mumbai buzz around us. Despite the chaos and intensity of it all, I'm struck by the strong sense of give and take and how little hostility I see. Infractions that would cause westerners to scream obscenities and foam at the mouth happen every few moments and barely elicit a head waggle from Indian drivers, who are usually more interested in where we're from or impressed with Peter's Hindi.

Sounds of Mumbai

For the past 6 months, I've been in a filmmaking program at BDFI, during which I've produced 2 short films and have a 3rd in production. I also got to work on numerous others to learn the various crafts of writing, casting, shooting, directing and editing. It's an amazing process and I've become very aware of how difficult it is to take an idea for a film through production and get something resembling your idea out the other end. One of the more intriguing aspects of filmmaking is sound design. The production sound that gets recorded during shooting typically only includes the dialog, so a lot of work has to be done in post production to add sound effects, music and create atmosphere. This sound design really ends up being the glue that holds a film together, providing depth and continuity. We've learned to listen and think about the sounds that will give life and help tell the story. New Years Day, I woke and lay listening for 15 or 20 minutes to the dense layers of sound. It starts with the sound of an aviary, with dozens of species of birds. People are talking, sometimes yelling, sometimes singing. A few TVs are going. Some dogs are barking. The motors and buzzing horns of rickshaws and motorcycles add another layer. Then there's the pounding, heavy pile driver like pounding that occasionally drowns out the usual hammering and beating. Sometimes it's rhythmic like drums... and it might be, but usually it just seems like constant construction, which it probably is. I'll record some and post it when I get a faster Internet connection. Peter said, 'What noise? This is the quiet part of Mumbai.'

Descent into Mumbai

We descend into Mumbai, through a brown haze, and an earthen smell wafts through the plane as it banks over some mysterious black pointy mountains. Then the endless sprawling city appears and increases in density as we go, buildings and homes jammed together, with sprawling shanty towns filling the gaps. The confusion of Mumbai becomes more visible as we approach the airport, buildings of all sizes seem to be stacked on top of one another, evolving into a huge slum that doesn't stop until the edge of the runway. Once in the airport, construction is going on everywhere. Walls and ceilings are in various states of construction and demolition--it's hard to tell which--gaping open with pipes, wires and fixtures exposed. Dust hangs in the air. Sounds of people, planes, motors, horns and construction mix in a way that signals the looming chaos of Mumbai that I'm about to enter as I make my way through passport control that doesn't seem so, um, controlled. I slept for what seemed like 10 minutes on the plane, but woke up to find that hours had gone by, so I guess I got some rest. I'm ready. I think.

Hedging and Henging Around

Sara drove me out to see this ancient site, just a stone's throw from London. It's thought that Stone Henge was started around 6500 years go... makes the 1000 year old buildings in the city seem young. It was f-ff-fffreezing, so we went in search of a nice warm pub for lunch. If you ever wondered why all those English sports cars are so small, just drive along some of these tiny back roads in the countryside, with little wide spots to pass.

On the Mews

My wonderful friend Sara invited me to stay for a few days on my way to India. I had no idea that she lived on the mews behind the home of Hank the Deuce, right smack in the middle of London, around the corner from Big Ben, down the street from Westminster Abby and across from Buckingham Palace. Walking around the block I saw at least 4 Aston Martins amongst the BMWs and Mercedes... this must be one of the trendy neighborhoods.

Crossing the Pond

I'm sitting here, flying through the air in this large metal tube, lined with softly lit, curvaceous off-white plastic, engines quietly roaring away, drowning out most of the breathing and snoring around me, lulling me into a light sleep. Occasionally a cough or whiny child's voice cuts through the heavy silence and I drift into semi-consciousness, anticipating my forthcoming travels through England and India, wondering how closely or not everything will resemble things I've read, stories I've heard, or pictures I've seen.

I saw the film Across the Universe a few days ago, so now I'm half expecting to see British hipsters from the 60's dancing through gritty shipyards and rundown tenements, breaking into Beatles tunes. I'm also reading Nick Hornby's High Fidelity, and unlike the movie (one of my favorites), which takes place in Chicago, the original setting for the book is in London. It would be great to visit the British version of Championship Vinyl.

Slumdog Millionaire is another recent film I saw, and my visions of Mumbai are more vivid than ever (see it!) I won't be surprised if I see kids playing cricket on the Mumbai Airport runway when we land.

Beans & Bees

The Crowden 8th grade took a field trip today to the Jelly Belly factory and Marshall's Farm, home of the Flying Bee Ranch. The Jelly Belly factory displayed it's industrial candy making power with an interesting array of candy making and packaging machines, which we viewed from an overhead walk way. In contrast, the bee farm was all the more fascinating in that almost no machinery is used (only a centrifuge to spin the honey out of the combs), relying mostly on the bees and their amazing ability to turn anything that blooms into honey. More photos here.