February 27, 2010

We visited the Gateway of India, speckled with clusters of tourists, cameras out and clicking. The Taj hotel to our backs, and in front of us, the ocean. The ocean with its many boats and polluted shores. The ocean, providing refuge from the intense heat of the Indian sun.

The Taj hotel.

Still under construction from the terrorist attacks. The girls all told me stories of families that were there, and many were indeed supposed to be there that evening, and for whatever turn of events, a sore throat, an impatient man, hadn’t made it.

Carnival on the beach.

This was unlike any beach or any carnival I have ever seen. My first instinct, obviously, was to go on all the rides! I changed my mind however, and retained my position in the scene as a bystander, a tourist.

The sun, the beach, the carnival.

The carnival on the beach was something. The sun setting behind the crowds of people, the vendors, families, tourists. I saw a man with one leg walking across the beach with a large stick which he used as his replacement. While he made his way across the sand, slightly behind the group he had arrived with, I watched him pause, and begin digging in his pocket for something.

His cell phone. It appeared as though he had recieved a text message which was urgent, and needed to respond immediately. Upon placing the phone back deep into his pocket, he continued on his way.

I can’t get over the mix of wealth and poverty, the mix of people in designer suites, sunglasses costing hundreds, and macbooks by their sides, walking past the children with no pants begging at every intersection and the people sleeping in the train station and on the side of the road.

I can’t get over the sounds, the sights, the smells, of the street coupled with those just a few floors up.

There is nothing like it.


March 4, 2010. Tags: , , , . Uncategorized. Leave a comment.