We had two days in Mumbai. Originally called Bombay, the name Mumbai was derived from the local deity ‘Mumba Devi’. Mumbai is the most populous city in India, with an estimated population of over 22 million inhabitants.
We kicked things off in this amazing city with a brief photo stop at Dhobi Ghat, a famed outdoor laundry where thousands of pieces of clothing are hand-washed and ironed each day. It was constructed in 1890 and has rows of open-air concrete wash pens, each fitted with its own flogging stone. The business is a family affair, being passed down from generation to generation amongst ~200 families. The tour guide mentioned that each dhobi (the person washing the clothes) washes clothes and linen for several families and that the joke is that you send 20 pieces of clothing out and get 19 back and that’s just part of the deal. She also said that you can only send cotton clothing because anything else would get destroyed by the process of flogging them against the stone.
We then made our way to the Mahatma Gandhi memorial. The memorial was a sort of museum in a two-story house that Gandhi used to stay in when he would visit Mumbai over the years.
In the memorial, there was a room that was kept as Gandhi had it when he stayed there:
There was also a room that had dioramas set up that detailed the important parts of Gandhi’s life, telling the story of what made him the person he was. Hokey? Yes. Interesting? Also yes. It was quite the reminder to see that he led protests late into his life, and was truly the epitome of non-violent protests.
After the Gandhi memorial, we went to a temple of the International Society for Krishna Consciousness (ISKCON) whose followers are colloquially called Hare Krishnas.
The temple itself was fairly standard as far as temples go. Shoes off, golden thrones, etc. The best part was that when we were leaving, we were given an offering in the form of a treat that tasted like a peanut butter ball. And for the record, we remembered to accept it with our right hands (since the left hand is the unclean hand in India).
After the temple we went to the impressive Gateway of India, an archway built in 1924 in the 16th-century Gujarat style with four turrets and intricate latticework carved into the yellow basalt stone. It is considered Mumbai’s principal landmark and was built to commemorate the landing of George V, the first British monarch to visit India.
Right next to the Gateway of India is the Taj Mahal Palace, a 5-star luxury hotel that was the location of a famous terrorist attack in 2008. The building is spectacular and is considered by many to be one of the finest hotels in the East.
Our final stop on our excursion was to the Prince of Wales Museum (actually, it’s now called Chhatrapati Shivaji Maharaj Vastu Sangrahalaya but that’s a mouthful), where we browsed artifacts such as ivory carvings, terracotta figurines, a mummy, and miniature paintings.
At the museum, I think my favorite piece of art was a huge structure in the front yard of a Buddha head that had a miniature Buddha figure inside of it sleeping (or maybe – probably – meditating). The sign that described the figure made the sculpture even more interesting. You can see it in the photo below.
My last comment about the museum – which really was interesting – is that I decided to use the bathroom while there. Actually, I was going to use the toilet at the Gandhi museum but there was no soap so I opted to wait. So when we got to the museum I headed for the bathroom and pretty much decided I could wait until we got back to the ship. The “toilet” was a hole in the floor. There was no toilet paper – only the spray hose. I couldn’t figure out how I would pee and clean myself without getting my shorts soaked. I know I need to be more open to different cultures, but this one had me baffled in terms of how to go without making a mess on myself. Thankfully it wasn’t an emergency for me so waiting was completely fine. I can’t imagine how I would have handled it if I really had to go and it was more than just pee. Eek.
The next day we embarked on our excursion to the Elephanta Caves. The extraordinary caves were carved out of solid basalt rock on Gharapuri Island, which is considered the heavenly mountain residence of Lord Shiva. After cruising to the island from the Gateway of India, we rode in a mini train to the foot of the caves, where a lot of shops were set up. The train moved at such a slow pace that I imagined myself easily running alongside it. Those are the types of things that go through my head, haha.
After we got off the train, we followed a stepped path to the Elephanta Caves, which hold a collection of shrines, courtyards, and grand halls filled with exquisite stone sculptures and reliefs of Hindu gods and goddesses. It made me think of Petra (or what I would imagine Petra would be like) with the carvings directly into the side of the mountain.
All of the sculptures were carved in the 6th century, a feat so spectacular that UNESCO has deemed the caves a World Heritage site. The Portuguese, who ruled this area for about 200 years starting in the 16th century, named the island Elephanta for a large stone elephant statue found near the shore. Unfortunately, the Portuguese destroyed many of the sacred statues inside by using them for target practice. Jerks. Even so, the sublime beauty of the caves remains and they still resonate with spiritual energy. (I got that last line from the description of the tour. I’m not that fancy in my descriptions!)
A weird thing that happened while we were in the caves was that a local person was taking a selfie and Ryan told me I was ruining his photo because I was in the background. So I apologized to the guy and moved. A little while later we discovered that the selfie positioning was intentional and he was trying to capture us. He asked if we would pose for a photo with him. I have no clue if he thought one of us was a famous person or what the deal was, but we obliged. No autographs were signed. 😉
After we finished with the caves we slowly made our way down the path back to the train. We made a few purchases, including a stone elephant and a turtle for the turtle collection back home. We also bought an orange drink for Ryan. When we got the drink, a shop keeper warned us to drink it right there and put it in our bag right away so monkeys wouldn’t steal it. We thanked him and did as he suggested and kept walking. At the bottom of the hill we were early waiting for everybody else to make their way down so I also bought a soda – a “Thums Up” – it just tasted like a generic cola.
While waiting for the train, we saw many monkeys and stray dogs. We also saw one of the monkeys essentially steal a fruit plate from a kid by punching the bottom of the tray and scaring him, making him throw the tray. The monkey proceeded to casually eat the fruit and bite any other monkey who tried to steal the fruit loot. So I guess the threat of a monkey stealing Ryan’s drink was a real one that we might have experienced firsthand had we not obeyed the warning.
After a brief wait, we hopped back on the train to ride back to the boat that would take us back to the Gateway of India. The biggest shock with the ride was the incredible amount of plastic and trash that was in the water along the coast. It was simply sad. We could partially blame the monkey theft for some of the mess, but that would be too convenient. It was a gross sight.
On the ride back to the pier, we enjoyed some nice views of the Gateway of India from the water. It was a nice sight to see to end our excursion.
On the way back to the ship, our tour guide continued to tell us some fun facts about the area. The one that stood out to me and made me want to investigate more was about the lunchboxes of Mumbai. I had never heard of this before, but apparently it’s quite famous. Basically, in Mumbai there are people called dabbawallas – workers who deliver lunchboxes called tiffins. Somebody at home (like a wife) will make a lunch and put it in a tiffin (a metal canister basically). They will then take the tiffin to a dabbawalla in late morning. That person will put the tiffin on a train to be later given to a dabbawalla on a bicycle to deliver it to another person’s (say, the husband) workplace. The tiffin will be collected and returned home later that day. It’s an incredibly efficient system that has been in operation since the late 1800s and consists of between 175,000 and 200,000 boxes being delivered daily by 4,500-5,000 dabbawallas. Supposedly very few mistakes are made despite the highest education of most of the dabbawallas being 8th grade, in part because of the color-coding system that is used to help determine where the tiffins go. It is fascinating to read about, and the logistics perfections has been discussed in dissertations and other academic papers. Quite interesting, to be sure.
And that concludes our Mumbai experience. We saw a lot and learned even more. We had beggars ask for money for babies (one followed my a block calling me ‘mama’ and had I had cash I would have given her some – the baby was so pitiful looking), grown men tried to sell us insanely large balloons, and monkeys got a tad too close for comfort. It was a visit we will remember for a long time.