Heels, Himalayas and Hilarity!!: Vindacrew do Mumbai

After a fairly restless night adjusting to strange creaks and groaning joints in a hostel in a country and city I didn't know, day two in Mumbai was fairly low-key. After a breakfast of… wait for it… curry, and the sweetest jam you've ever encountered, practically strawberry cheesecake on toast, I set off on-foot with 3 Canadians I had met briefly the night before to try and find the train station. We had decided the night before that I would travel with them down to Kerala instead of my original plan to head to the beach in Goa, so before I’d even started I’d changed the vague shell of an itinerary that I’d devised. But I decided as a solo traveler that I should take friends where I could find them, and if that meant adjusting my agenda then so be it. Steph, Will and Danny were their 'lovely' names, travelling from Toronto for a similar period of time as myself, they were heading to Kerala for a few days before checking in to a 2 week yoga retreat there.

We walked around in circles for a wee bit in the spiderweb of a city that is Mumbai before eventually finding the ticket booking office tucked away behind a hidden gate in a building that could be forgiven for mistaking for private property. In our wisdom we decided we would get the ‘authentic’ experience and take the “24 hour” train ride sleeper class – read, no A/C.

After establishing that we needed to go back the following day to be able to sit altogether to travel, we mooched around the city for a bit, through multi-coloured bazaars and taking in a few sites, before settling in a bar for a quiet beer and a round of Yahtzee. Dinner was of course more curry, and it was early nights all around to ensure we were in tip-top condition for the city tour that we had organised for the following day.

Day 3 produced more curry for breakfast (there's a theme emerging here, shocking seeing as it's India!), and happily jumping in the car with our awesome guide Sandeep (sp?). Our itinerary was the Hanging Gardens, “the most important Gandhi museum in India” (apparently every city says they have the “most important Gandhi museum in India”, hence the quote marks), a washing ghat, the biggest slum in Mumbai, followed by the Gateway of India, dotted intermittently of course with mandatory stops to shops where our driver would get commission if we bought (we didn't!).

The hanging gardens were very pretty, if nothing to write home about. Amusingly I was followed around by a man trying to sell me the Karma Sutra – apparently he thought I need all the help I can get (hold the comments please!). The Gandhi museum was pretty interesting, particularly seeing the note that he hand-wrote to Hitler trying to stop the Second World War – talk about a historic document! I bought a very cool book on recycled paper written by the man himself (Gandhi, not Hitler! - because I need more stuff to carry!), and then it was off to the world’s biggest outdoor washing machine!

The ghat was absolutely incredible, with washing spanning further than the eye could see, all washed by hand, by men – apparently it’s too hard work for women. It seems the West have got it all wrong! All perfectly organised – whites with whites, purples with purples (honestly, they seem to wear a lot of purple or so it appeared from the washing!), jeans with jeans, shirts with shirts, school uniforms and more all neatly hanging row upon row. Exactly how the system works I have no idea, but it was great to see, and hopefully I have some pretty cool photos of the experience (although none with Dot! FAIL!).

After a lovely but expensive lunch (for India, it cost about £2 each!) it was off to see the slums. I was unsure that having just eaten a huge meal was ultimately the appropriate time to be going, but it wasn't my agenda so off we went. The trepidation of the journey there was palpable. What would it be like? Could I handle it? And what if I couldn't?

We pulled up outside on a street that looked maybe slightly poorer, but much like the rest of the streets around Mumbai. We were led by our guide down a small nook, and headfirst into the slum we went like Alice down the rabbit hole with no concept how deep that hole might go.

We had already been told that those that lived there were very respectful of all that came to their slums, that they were proud that tourists indeed came to view their lives. And it couldn't have been more true. In my head I was envisioning basically the 'Sponsor a Child' TV ad environment, but what I witnessed was a strong, happy, proud, functioning community. Sure, they weren't flats nor houses, and most were only one room, but they were clean, homely, industrious, and seemingly very happy.

Men and women alike were crafting their trade, making clay pots, sewing, painting. Almost everywhere we looked there were smiling faces. Children still in their school uniforms outside doing their homework, helping their parents work, or just happily playing. They were all keen to be photographed which was awesome, and they were very excited when I showed them the result of my snaps. Unlike in the city of Mumbai, not one asked for money or tried to sell us a thing. They just couldn't have been more welcoming. They had next to nothing, yet they seemed more peaceful and content than most of us in our day to day lives, with our hot water, flushing toilets, double beds, multi-roomed houses, iPhones, iPods, Macs, and 5-6 figure salaries. Despite the conditions, everyone there appeared contented, calm and friendly. They all spoke 2 languages to my 1, and they were all talented in their craft. It really shows that any one of those ‘slum people’ could have and should have been smarter, better educated, better at sport, better at anything than me, and it really comes down to the hand that you’re dealt. I was born in New Zealand, those people to the slums of Mumbai.

So I think I am working out what I have come to India to find, and that is gratefulness and a true sense of perspective to realise just how incredibly fortunate I am. Compared with what these people deal with every single day of their lives, my life, and yours, no matter what we’re experiencing or going through is beyond their jackpot, beyond their dream. It will be a memory and a feeling that I surely hope will stay with me for the rest of my life – an unforgettable experience – the Wonder of India.

To my friends and family to whom I am eternally grateful - be happy, smile, and be grateful every single day, no matter what. If those beautiful, smiling people in the slums of Mumbai can do it, so surely can we.

Namaste xx