Bombay Letters 1, March 1998

Date:                Monday, March 2, 1998

Subject:           Finally a Letter!

Dear Family,

First, we are here, happy, and safe.   Second, our home number is 011‑91‑22‑386‑4444.  You can reach us at it for about two weeks or so until we get into our permanent place.  We are staying temporarily in a very nice two bedroom apartment and are waiting for a very nice three bedroom to be ready.  Third, forgive me/us for not getting something more substantive to you sooner.  Getting access to e‑mail, and then getting the incredibly slow and overcrowded system here to let one in has been rough.  I have attempted a message numerous times.  Hopefully this will make it.

And now for some tid-bits about our trip and about life in Bombay.  The trip: considering we traveled halfway around the  world with five people and 15 pieces of luggage (9  check in, 6 carry on) made a two day stop in NY City where we stayed at a holiday inn in Chinatown (very interesting) and a one day stop in Frankfurt at a downtown bed and breakfast (and had nice visits with some of Nita’s friends), we had a trip with no mishaps.  Our first exposure to Bombay was wild.  The airport was fumey and full of PEOPLE!!  There was no special diplomat line, but (par for the course in India) we were met and escorted.  After retrieving our luggage, we stepped out into a VAST THRONG of humanity which was unnerving.  The trip home was in the dark (we arrived at midnight) and that is probably good, since the Bombay airport is surrounded by the biggest slum in Asia.  The kids were appalled and amazed to see people sleeping on the streets.

Our life here: the kids attend the American School of Bombay.  They are liking it so far.  The classes are small and the teachers are dedicated.  Our children will have the chance to learn everything from cricket, an obsession here, to conversational Hindi.  Nita has been trying a number of different things.  She has gone to several ladies club meetings, some she likes more than others, and she plays Mahjong every Tuesday with other diplomat or businessman wives.  Our colleagues at the Consulate have gone out of their way to make us feel welcome and help us get adjusted.  We have a sponsoring family.   They made sure some food was in the fridge when we arrived, took us places we needed to go, and had an envelope of Rupees for us until we could get our own money changed.   The feel is that everyone has been through this before and so you have a happy obligation to smooth the way for the new folks.  I look forward to being the sponsor in months to come.

We are employers.   Our servant’s name is  Muthiah.   He is from Tamil Nadu, a southern state in India.   He cooks, cleans, does washing and shops all for $80.00 per month.   We will probably raise that to about $90.00 if he works out.   It is fun to have meals cooked  and things done.   It is also a bit weird for us since we don’t always know what is appropriate and what is not.   But as people keep telling us, “You’re the boss!”  And so we are.  Nita is madam (emphasis on the first syllable) and I am master.  No kidding!  Let me briefly mention money.   There are 40 rupees to a dollar.   We can get a fresh pineapple or papaya for 50 cents.   A banana costs one rupee.   An orange/tangerine costs two rupees.   A jar of raspberry jam is 40 rupees and a taxi drive to the consulate from where we live (10 minutes) for 10 rupees and one to downtown, 40.   The kids enjoy how far their dollar goes.

I wish you could ride in a taxi with me or in a Consulate shuttle and take a drive here in Bombay where traffic moves on the left side of the road.  Intrepid drivers turn two lane roads into three and sometimes more, driving wherever there’s an opening.  Honking is incessant but considered polite here; it lets others know you are there.   In fact, on the back of large trucks you often see “honk please” painted in large, colorful letters.  The traffic is heavy and wild.   People routinely cut in front of each other and pedestrians need to be VERY alert.   And when you are not watching the traffic you can watch the color along the side of the road: an oxcart here, a Baskin Robbins there, beggars at the car window when you’re stopped at a red light and designer clothing stores along many streets, seemingly endless fruit and magazine stands and always, always, always lots and lots of people walking and sitting and talking and eating and doing whatever people do.   The ladies colorful garb here makes the whole scene really incredible.

Much love to you all.

About literarylee

I sling words for a living. Always have, always will. Some have been interesting and fun; most not. These days, I write the fun words early in the morning before the adults are up and make me eat my Cream of Wheat.
This entry was posted in Bombay Letters and tagged , , , . Bookmark the permalink.

Leave a Reply