Mumbai

Since Hampi, I have ridden more cheap, non-airconditioned local buses all the way to Gokarna on the coast, and then up to Panjim in Goa, then a night train to Mumbai.
Gokarna is a sleepy seaside town with cute narrow back streets, lots ofstray cows and dogs, a filthy creek and a trash-speckled beach. I didn't stay long, but the town was still buzzing from a local festival. They have 2 huge charriots in the street they pull with donkeys. Children sit on the second level of the chariot, and throw bananas at people, aiming violently for the face. It has something to do with Shiva and some kind of monkey revenge.

One of the buses on the way through Goa was leaving in a hurry, and the ticket agent yelled and excitedly pushed me into the jam packed bus. I found myself nose to nose with an old man with a long scraggly white beard, wearing a white turban, and holding a long walking stick, with children sitting on the floor, women of all ages in colorful clothing all over, and a friendly young man staring at me. In the chaos, there was also loud, fun Indian techno dance music playing on little speakers, and a colorfful dingleberry garland hanging across the windsheild. I couldn't help but laugh and smile. The young guy laughed with me and we bumped on down the road like it was a party!

On the night train to Mumbia, all I could get was an open ticket in the women's wagon, which unfortunately had fewer spaces to sleep than the normal, 3-bunks high sleeper cars. The wagon filled with so many women, they were lying in the aisles and literally underneith my legs. I felt lucky to have a seat, but really wished I could have laid down and slept properly. Two sisters, who are students at the University of Mumbai, couldn't help but ask me the "Indian 20 questions". We talked about many things, most astonishing to me was the part where they explained, in simple terms, the names of the Indian castes. According to two 20 year old women on a train, here they are in order from top to bottom:
Brahmen (Hindu)
Maratha (Hindu)
OBC - this stands for "Other Backward Classes"
ST - "scheduled tribes"
NT - "nomadic tribes
SC - "scheduled class" (Buddhist)

I find the "other backward classes" to be a bit offensive, but then I remember that formal social higherarchy is just generally wrong to begin with.
The two women and I also talked a lot about marriage and being single. I was blown away that they were blown away that I liked living alone, and although their English was very good, "apartment" was a new word. I described having my own kitchen, bathroom, washer and dryer. They couldn't disagree that it could possibly be nice to have all of those things to oneself. I made the older sister uncomfortable when I said I would be fine if I never get married and never have children, and my parents are also fine with that, even when that means zero grandchildren (unheard of!). They asked me "How will you be taken care of when you're old?!" I described retirement savings, and that even if I do have children, I wouldn't want to burden them financially. "-Ohhhhhh" they replied. The older sister was very pretty but somewhat of an airhead, and she described everthing she could about arranged marriages, and how sure she is that her parents will find the perfect guy for her, she has a cousin who turned down 40 to 50 guys, but is now engaged to the perfect one. She is certain that her arranged marriage will lead to children and a blissful life. I hope she gets it. The younger, spunkier, smarter sister with slightly crooked teeth and glasses, had questions like "why did your parents get divorced", and understood right away when I described that in the 1970s when my parents met, it was taboo to live together and date for too long without getting married. One parent was a money saver, and a home-body, and the other liked to spend more and go places a lot. They weren't a good fit and they weren't able to find out before getting married. Living together could have given them a trial period, and maybe led to breaking things off earlier and finding a better match. I also talked about the dating I've done, and how I haven't met the right guy yet. There's always a reason why they're not a good fit, so I move on and keep looking. I repeated that living alone is awesome, and added I'd rather be single and happy than with a guy who's not a good fit. Again, the younger spunky sister understood, and the older pretty one was disappointed and uncomfortable, and just wanted to believe in her perfect, future arranged marriage.

Mumbai has wonderful, British stone architecture and British style streets and sidewalks. Yay! Sidewalks!!! There is a large, linear park where men play pick-up cricket, and all on one side is the huge court house, old churches, and a clock tower that reminds me of the one at San Jose State Univ., only this one is bigger. I hear it chiming often. Mumbai is mostly clean, and the food is good. I did, however, expect Mumbai to be more modern. Internet is hard to find, internet cafes have old, clunky computers, and wifi is absent. I also see very few women in modern clothing. Still the sari and the chudidar with a scarf and pants. It's hot, and I have seen no women in shorts or a skirt above the ankle. The most modern it gets is a t-shirt that covers the butt completely, and full-length jeans. Men, on the other hand, widely wear athletic shorts and t-shirts.

I took a "slum tour", and met a fun, intelligent, awesome British single gal traveler, Steph. She's from Manchester but works in London as a hospital administrator (NHS). We had long and interesting conversations comparing our two country's health care and tax systems. It was very interesting. We spoke about many things: race, rape, abortion, burkas, "16 and pregnant", Honey Boo Boo, social mobility and community college. She could see that making university available to students of any age, part-time, students with children, career-change people, is awesome and she wished they had that in the UK. I wish we had in the US a system remotely resembling the UK's universal health care.

I mailed a package home with my journal, a book, and my scuba mask in it. It took 2 hours to buy a cardboard box, go to the street stall that sews muslin wrappers on packages which is apparently required, fill out the customs form, xerox it in tripplicate, and pay for my shipment, about $20. I kept a smile on my face, but geez louise, Indian bureaucracy is atrocious!

I'll stay in Mumbai for 2 more days, to take in some museums and catch up on some sleep.