My very first arrival in Mumbai - as a blond woman, travelling alone (India, October 2017)
When I first arrived at the airport in Mumbai I had to go through several security checks. I was very nervous. The guys at the passport check seriously checked every single Visa. A few people in the cue in front of me were refused to let in. Then the guy behind the desk was first not able to register my visa, again and again trying to scan my passport. Half an hour later, when everyone else was already gone to the baggage claim, I still stood there in front of the desk. The officer had in the meantime asked for help of his colleagues. Another thirty minutes later I was finally allowed to go through the gate and pick up my backpack. It was already driving around alone on the conveyor. I exchanged my last twenty Euro cash in Indian Rupees. I got about 20000 Rupees for it. Wow! I never had so many banknotes in my hand before!
Then my first steps out of the airport! Straight to the Rickshaws. Luckily, I was well informed and knew the appropriate prices for a Rickshaw drive to my Hostel in Bandra East. But - not speaking any Indian language and looking rich and European- it was not easy for me to convince the drivers. When I finally ended the discussion angrily “Fine, I’ll find another Rickshaw driver somewhere else!” and started walking away, one of the drivers in their brown uniform ran after me and said: “Hey, hey, fine! 350! Chalo!” and he pointed to his Rickshaw. I was happy and entered the three wheeled little vehicle. It was not the warmest welcome to a new country, but in the end I got a fair price. Now I was happy and excited to begin my new adventure in Asia!
The young driver was barefoot and he drove like crazy. Even though it was early morning 7 o’clock there was a lot of traffic going on. People were honking a lot, I saw a few families with kids without helmets on scooters and people in other cars and Rickshaws, looking at me. It seemed chaotic to me. As if everyone just drove through everybody else the way they want, crossing all at the same time. Most cars crossed without using indicators. At some big crossings the traffic lights were not in use. But for some reason it all worked out perfectly fine! Loud and chaotic, but no accidents as far as I could see.
Then the orange pink red morning sun next to the lane distracted me from the traffic chaos. It was so beautiful. I had seen pictures online, of the sunrise in Mumbai. But to see things in reality is always more impressive! The big red pinkish sun ball was burning above the smoggy skyscrapers of the city. I could hardly see where the city ended and the sea started, as well as where the sea ended and the sky started. Everything was one. Only the rocks on the cost and the boats on the sea helped me find the borders. The time stopped for a moment. I forgot about everything else around me and just stared out the window. For one moment I forgot the wind in my face, the smell of car exhausts, the cars and scooters around me, I forgot myself holding my big backpack and trying to sit safely in the fast moving, bumping Rickshaw. The sun absorbed my full attention.
A few minutes later we drove down the Highway bridge and the Rickshaw driver stopped in a small street with lots of market stalls, selling fruits, jewelry, scarfs and street food. He asked another Rickshaw driver for the way to my Hostel. Even though I was super tired I was hoping that the drive would never end. I was enjoying it.
And I was lucky. Before I arrived in the Hostel I got to see more market streets, colorful dressed people and cows walking or sleeping in between, and walkways above the ground where crowds of people were crossing big streets. I also saw a rundown poor township on the side of the road, huge pipelines and a creek with dirty smelling water. Next to the train station were loads of trash and I saw little kids in underwear playing with trash on the big pipelines.
In the Hostel lobby and at the reception it was hot. I was sweating, and I could still hear the loud traffic from outside. The walls were only fabric curtains. But my bed in the sixteen-bed dorm room was nice. I payed about eight Euro per night and I had fresh sheets, a curtain to cover my bed for personal space, shared showers and toilets.
In the evening I became friends with a bunch of friendly backpackers from the Hostel and even with some locals from Mumbai. Some of them live (or work) permanently in the Hostel, some of them temporarily.
One of them is Matoof, who is still friends with me now. The others were one guy from England, one guy and one girl from Italy, a woman from Australia and two other guys and a girl from India.
We went out at night and they showed us the streets around the Hostel. They helped me to find the way to an ATM and they introduced me to the most common kinds of street food.
Samosas (deep fried dough triangles filled with potatoes, peas, lentils and chili)
Vada Pao (Burger bread role filled with a deep fried potato dumpling),
Missal Pav (a thick vegetable curry with a soft white bread role)
&
Pani Poori (round crisp dough filled with spiced water and potato)
Jalebi (deep fried sugar syrup sweet) and many more.
I had planned not to eat any street food in India as recommended everywhere, but all my friends from the Hostel went to eat Shawarma. That’s a flatbread filled with some vegetables or chicken with sauces.
I thought if the Italian people can eat it, so can I. And it was right. Nothing happened to me. It was delicious, drowning in sauces and I survived my first night in India without getting sick.
In Germany Indias’ reputation is so bad. When you tell people you travel to India, they promise you that you will become seriously sick and you might even get raped and killed by a couple of desperate men. But although everything was still new and a bit strange to me, I felt safe there. I had super nice and friendly people around me, I had food to eat and I had a nice place to sleep.
We also had a cat and a dog in the Hostel :-) |
I was happy to let my family and friends know that I arrived safely and then I enjoyed my first four days in India with my Hostel friends. We went for a walk through a township one day, to the beach another day, to the city center to buy my Indian SIM card another day and I slept a lot to get slowly used to the new time zone and the constant heat of around 35 degrees Celsius. We always used Rickshaws to get around and everything was (compared to German standards) super cheap. (As long as I was with locals!)
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