Sometime last week, hubby's aunt called and said why don't I come visit for a few days? And I said why the hell not? I've got nothing going on.
So Thursday afternoon, Dadaji and I departed for Thane. Traveling with Dadaji is a lot like I imagine this kind of travel would have been like with my dad: bare bones. Even though my mother-in-law was sitting at home pretty as you please and a car was parked in the driveway, we set out down the street on foot to catch a bus to the train station.
If you want to see a group of Indians completely speechless, stick a white chick on a city bus. The fact that I was traveling with an 87-year-old Indian man only seemed to amaze them further.
At the station, Dadaji parked me on a bench while he went to find out which car we would be riding in so we could wait in the appropriate spot on the platform. Granted, I'd only ridden a train in India once before, but I was completely unaware there were assigned seats and proper places to stand. That seems very...un-Indian.
As I mentioned, Dadaji is 87 years old. He was a Freedom Fighter. He spent some time in jail because of it. He takes no crap. If he wants your seat, he will leave you no option but to give it to him. If he wants a seat for me, same deal. Our seats on the train turned out to not be together. It took him all of 10 seconds to fix that. Not with a polite pleading "we're traveling together so could we please sit together" but with more of a "this is my seat and I want the seat next to it too so move your ass right now."
When we reached Thane, we hopped on another city bus which, to my enjoyment, garnered the same bug-eyed response as the first. From the bus we walked through the craziest intersection ever to get to Foi's shop. I remember watching in amazement on my last visit as Dadaji crossed the street with his eyes closed and his hand out, palm facing the oncoming traffic. He crosses the street in much the same way this time, only now he points his ever present walking stick at the cars, which invokes a little fear of God in the drivers.
Note: "Foi" denotes father's sister. Though I've recently discovered this term is not used by all Indians. I don't remember if it's a Marathi thing or a Gujarati thing or a my family is crazy thing. But for us, "foi" is father's sister and "foa" is her husband. As Papa has no brothers, I don't know what the term for that would be. "Mamma" is mother's brother, somehow not to be confused with what you call your mother, and "mammi" is his wife. "Maasi" is mother's sister and "maasa" is her husband.
I had begun to think this system was simpler than the American way of calling them all "aunt" and "uncle", because you would never feel the need to elaborate on that. However, when my foi and cousin were visiting Pune I realized it is in fact a far more confusing system. I call my mother-in-law "mama" (at her insistence) but my cousin calls my father-in-law "mama" because he is her mother's brother. So we'd all be talking about "mama" but not the same person. Con.fus.ing. Further complicated by the fact that any elder is referred to as "auntie" or "uncle" regardless of whether or not you even know them, everyone is considered to be a relative of some sort whether or not they really are, and cousins are considered siblings which seems straightforward enough until you realize you forgot each cousin has a whole other side of the family to worry about. Moving on...
So this foi owns a shop where many of my Indian clothes were purchased or made (you can choose fabric and have items sewed by a tailor). This time I actually got to pick things out myself! Exciting. So I had a new kameez and churidar pants made so that I have a dressier one on hand...for whatever. I just wanted one ok? I also had a new kurti made, so now I have two Indian outfits that I actually like. Yay me.
On Friday I realized there was something strange going on...people were actually talking! To each other! And to me! There was conversation! It made me a little sad to realize just how unaccustomed I am to having people to talk to during the day.
It's not that I don't want to talk to my mother-in-law. It's just that almost everyone else I've ever met is so much easier to talk to. And there's the tiny detail that even if I spend the entire day following her around, there's very little in the way of conversation. At most I'll get the usual lecture about child-rearing and the like, but I'm not allowed to respond in any way. But most of the time it's just silence or she leaves the room. So I return to my room to at least kill some time on the computer or read a book or something. So very little talking goes on in this house. Hence my amazement at a full day of conversation.
So we talked, I explored Thane on the back of my cousin's scooter, I got soaking wet in the Mumbai monsoon (which is helluva lot different than Pune monsoon, just fyi), I rode in a horse drawn carriage around a lake in the middle of the city (a carriage drawn by a very scrawny horse whose ribs I could count, around a lake complete with a giant temple in the middle framed by enormous statues of gods), I went for ice cream, I had incredible food...and this was just the first day!
Saturday morning I went to meet a friend of my other foi (who lives in the U.S.) who works with an environmental conservation non-profit in Thane. That morning they were doing tree planting to help reforest a large hill area that has seen far too many trees cut down and results in mudslides in the villages below. So I destroyed my second pair of shoes since arriving in India by hiking through mud up a hill and planting trees in the rain. But it was fun, and doing things like that is apparently the only way for me to get physical activity here.
In the evening my cousin and her cousin took me to Mumbai to meet my friend B who was visiting her sister.
Now, I've always thought of Thane as a suburb of Mumbai. Like Thane is to Mumbai what Arlington is to DC. Except it is apparently more like what Richmond is to DC. You can commute from there every day, but only the absolutely insane actually do it, and odds are good that 95% of the population hasn't been to the city in a decade.
The three of us took a rickshaw to a bus stop, where we caught an air-conditioned bus to Mumbai. That took two hours. And even then we got down at a train station and had to take another rick for about 30 minutes to the actual house. But not once did anyone tell me that it would take too long to go or make me feel like I was inconveniencing them. So different from being in Pune.
Saturday night and Sunday were spent in Mumbai. And were fantabulous. We had mexican food for dinner which was divine. I was even able to have a Hoegaarden for the same price you get a cheap local beer that tastes like piss in Pune. There was lots of talking and laughing. B made me once again do my impression of my mother-in-law when she cooks. I'm told I should do stand-up, but I'm guessing it would only work in India as all my funny stories are Indian mother-in-law related. I guess I know what I would do if we ever move to India!
Sunday was ridiculously chill. We did some shopping. We got a crazy good foot massage. We had a leisurely lunch. B was taking a hired car back to Pune that evening, so I rode part of the way and got dropped off near Thane. Foa met me there and we took a bus and rick back to their house. And again, no one made me feel like an inconvenience.
More good food was had (and yes, recipes were written down). On Monday, my cousin was returning to Manipal in the south of the country for school. So several of her friends came over for lunch before we all left for the train station. Mine and Dadaji's train was first, so we said our goodbyes and took off for Pune. The ride back was pretty much exactly like the ride there.
It was a great few days. I feel like I actually got to know people and they actually got to know me. Well, as much as you can in four days. But it's more than I feel like has happened with my in-laws in almost seven weeks. I also learned a whole host of new card games that I will have to teach someone when I get back so I don't forget.
Thane and Mumbai are both very different from Pune. I would expect Pune to be calmer and cleaner, but the reality is much different. Yes, there is less traffic. Yet somehow there is more exhaust on the streets. I can't be near a road in Pune and breathe comfortably. In Mumbai I had dinner by the side of the road and was perfectly fine. In Pune I wake up every morning feeling as though my throat is swollen shut, a feeling that lasts for hours. In Mumbai, no problem. In Pune, there does seem to be a slower pace. But it's boring. In Mumbai, things are a bit more frantic, but there's so much to do and see. If I have to choose between the two, Mumbai wins hands down. Even Thane wins over Pune. (It doesn't hurt that even in monsoon season I saw only one mosquito and received no bites even without mosquito netting, while in Pune I get eaten alive each and every day even with insect repellent and mosquito netting.) Luckily there is one more trip to Mumbai before I go :-)
Mumbai sounds awesome!
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