So when we went to watch the Pirates movie, they did not have much with regards to previews, but they had their own little amusing quirks, if I can put them that way. First of all, before anything else, the theatre had to give their own little disclaimer which said that if a power-outage occurs in the first 45 minutes of the film, then a refund or change in the tickets would be available for the next six days, but if a power-outage occurs after the first 45 minutes of the film, then they are not held responsible and no refund will be available. Additionally, I was able to listen to the Indian national anthem for the first time because you are required to stand and watch the waving Indian flag while listening to the national anthem before the movie started. Other than that, I kept on forgetting that we were in India.
I suppose my trip to India and my trip to Kenya were quite different. It is a lot easier to escape back into the comforts of back home here in India, though, in both places, I can get really good dark chocolate when desperate times arrive.
Annnd I just blew a fuse trying to plug in the surge protector. The scary thing is, there was nothing plugged in, and the surge protector was even off. Well, so much for that. Now I'm jumpy about plugging things in. Augh. Anyhow, back to the subject at hand.
So it really is a lot easier to hide back into comforts that are similar to home. We finally have internet in our flat. Granted, it is one Ethernet cable the enters through the window from who knows where, and it also is very intermittent and testy, but that works for me. It certainly beats sitting in a stuffy internet cafe with computer from the early 1990's trying to send important e-mails and do research on an internet connection that makes you miss 56K. Our flat has actually become pretty homey, and it has certainly become a small haven for doing work that needs to be done. We have running water--well, vaguely. Emily and I think that we have finally figured out how to make sure we have water to shower, wash dishes, etc. We have a water tank storage that we need to wake up at five in the morning to turn on the taps, and then again at 6:30 to turn off the taps lest the tank overflows and we wake up with soaked sleeping pads.
The reason for that is that this part of the city, at least, only receives water from between approximately 5:00 to 8:00 am, with a leeway of an hour or two for when it actually starts and stops. So, if we want water for the day, we need to make sure we get up and fill the tank before the water stops, or else we are left without water until the next day, assuming that there is not a sudden long drought; as of right now with the monsoons arriving soon, I do not see that to be as big of a problem. Still, it is also possible that the monsoons could destroy pipelines, etc., which would make obtaining clean water slightly harder.
Also, we have our own stock of random American food for those times when we have had one too many masala curries, idlies, and upmas. Apparently Anu had brought boxes of Post cereal in a once-empty suitcase that she needed to bring back to her aunt, I have granola bars and a bag of gummy bears, and we just bought "brown bread" (whole wheat bread) and peanut butter. We also bought our own chai and soy milk and sugar to make our own chai the way we like it. Back in Kenya, I did not really have much of a choice as to what I ate--though finally I did specify that I wanted dry toast, not too much sugar in my chai, boiled eggs, and the apple that I bought at the Nakumat on the way home the day before for breakfast--and I definately did not have running water nor was there any way to have your own personal internet line. There is even a McDonald's around the corner where you can get a paneer tikka burger or even a McChicken sandwich.
When we went to watch pirates, or when we go shopping at FabIndia, or at the R Mall, other than the store stocking only extremely bright-colored and patterned kurtas and churidars, I forget that I am here in India to work on safe water in the slums of Mumbai. It was slightly frustrating having that feeling of being torn between having fun and taking a break away from work, and needing to keep yourself grounded and remembering the reason that I am here. It is not to say that I do not want to take breaks and that I do not want to have fun, but luxuries such as movies and shopping in air-conditioned malls feels out of place.
I suppose that is how most places are: the strange juxtaposition between the rich and the poor. My sitting at the Somaiya canteen with my laptop while watching the mini shanty-town of the construction workers working on the buildings of Somaiya grow. Our waiting for the bus or auto-rikshaw while beggars blind in one eye hobbling around with an injured leg ask you in angry-sounding Hindi for some money or food. Our walking by street-dwellers under the flyover with nice clothes and full bags of work slung over our shoulders. The nice houses with air conditioning and electricity with a slum on the other side of the railway tracks. I mean, the same holds true for all places, even in America.
While working with REACH!, I was able to hear stories from my mentees that go to one high school where there are bars, metal detectors, and canines sniffing around every day, while there is another high school just 15 minutes away that is one of the best in California. California has one of the top public university systems in the country, and yet, for primary and secondary education, we fall to either the 48th or 49th state in terms of quality of education. In Kenya, Nairobi with its prominent yet close-minded lawyers and high-rise buildings and paved streets holds Kibira, one of the world's largest slums. I wonder how extreme disparities such as these arise. Yes, there are the factors of how we need the poor people to work for the rich people, etc, but sometimes all of this seems so ridiculous. Then again, that could just be me.
I really want to visit Dharavi, which is here in Mumbai. It is apparently, as I just learned, that is where Gucci tans their leather. Dharavi is the largest slum in Asia. Supposedly, it should not be as dangerous as other places. I do not plan to go around by myself, but at least it is not Kibira, which is situated in one of the top-ten murder capitals of the world. Hm, when I went to visit last year, I did not feel too unsafe. Oh well, lucky me.
Hm. Oops. Was vaguely distracted by real-time internet, shower, meetings, and just other random nicknacks, and now it is 5:45 in the afternoon. All right. Anyhow, as I was saying I hope I get to visit Dharavi sometime.
Yesterday, after a meeting in the morning with Ajit and his cousin, a filter vendor, which took from ten in the morning until two in the afternoon, Nick, Anu, Krishna, Avijit, Shantanu, and I took a double-decker bus and went to the southern part of Mumbai near Viti and visited the Gateway of India, went shopping a little with my lack of money, and then watched the sunset from Marine Drive, which was gorgeous.
CST Train Station at the southern tip of Mumbai.
The Taj Hotel.
The Gateway of India.
(Photo courtesy of Nick.)
(Photo courtesy of Nick.)
Afterwards, I just took some time at home, and had a very chill day at home. Got some work done e-mailing a bunch of different people that I needed to, made some phone calls, and took a very relaxing day. Tomorrow we will be visiting the slums in Sion (Behrampada is located in Bandra), and I will need to figure out exactly what we are doing with the water quality testing. Also, non-disclosure agreements and material transfer documents are SO annoying to deal with. I hate patents and businesses and erggg. Oh well. I will figure this out, eventually. I really wish that there were somebody that we can rely on and such regarding water quality testing, and that the guys from HaloSource will get back to me with regards to better tests for cysts, but oh well.
I think I want to take some time to read some of "The Idiot" (Dostoyevsky). I finished "Despair" (Nabokov) on the plane ride. I also really want to get a copy of Shantaram. Trying to obtain a really cheap copy of it here is apparently really hard. It's still cheaper than in America, but the quality is better in America, and for those of you who don't know me, I am anal-retentive about keeping my books in mint condition. I have gotten better at that, but it's still hard.
Oh yeah! One more thing, getting squished between two buses driving by in the middle of the road is REALLY scary. This actually happened the second of third day here in India, but I totally forgot to mention it. Crossing the streets is definitely a skill to pick up here.
Lesson of the day: Lines on the road and street signals mean crap in India. So, when you need to cross the street, just make sure that there is somebody between you and the in-coming traffic, so if somebody does get run over, you will not be the first one to die.
This is Edith, signing out.
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