10 Apr India Day 12: Mumbai Day and Night

After a great night with Devang, we wanted to spend the next day further exploring Mumbai.

Devang had mentioned, “The Crawford Market is usually full of a lot of people and dirty and extremely crowded, but it’s where you find every day stuff that locals buy. Stuff there is really cheap. It’s really crowded and dirty…you probably wouldn’t want to go.” Extremely crowded? Dirty? Cheap? Paul and I said, “Hell ya!”

We set off the following morning after a few hours of work (because the internet was FREE) to find this Crawford Market. Before we got too far, I noticed that I left my purple power adaptor at the Trident, and we decided to make a pit stop there. A few hours later, we walked out with four to five hand painted pictures from the gift shops and no purple power adaptor. Now on our way to the market, our cab driver kept trying to extend his driving services for the entire day. It went down like this:

PAUL: Crawford Market, please sir.
CABBIE: Yes. Crawford Market, I know. Just Crawford? I have list of places I can take you. After Crawford, I wait and take you to many places.
PAUL: Umm… that’s great, but we aren’t sure where we’re going to be after the Crawford Market. We might wander off somewhere else.
CABBIE: I understand. Do you want to see the train station? That’s also very famous.
PAUL: No sir. Just the Crawford Market, please. We’ve already been to the train station.
CABBIE: Ok. Crawford Market. Have you heard of Colaba Causway? After Crawford, I take you to Colaba.
PAUL: Sir, that is very generous of you, but Crawford Market will be enough.
CABBIE: No problem. After Crawford, I take you to Colaba.
PAUL: Sir…

It took ten minutes of this back and forth before the driver finally understood that we just wanted to go to the market.
The moment we stepped into the labyrinth full of shops around 11 am, Paul and I knew we had opened Pandora’s Box. One could easily become lost amongst the mesmerizing printed fabrics and the vibrantly colored sarees. Although many of the store owners tried to entice us to view their offerings, most were more interested in having their pictures taken. “Photo please,” and they would gesture to Paul and I and of course we obliged. What a filmmakers paradise!

We spent hours walking just breathing in the colors and patterns. A few times, a local would help us “find what we needed,” which really meant, “let me lead you to this particular store where you can buy stuff.”

Paul and I searched for nothing in particular, but when we happened by jewelry store, I WENT BANANAS. I. LOVE. JEWLERY. We stepped inside and I swear time stopped. We had entered another dimension altogether. All the jewelry we had seen selling for 200-300 rupees on Colaba Causeway now had prices around 89 rupees here. JACKPOT!

Side Note: What am I thinking in the picture above? Potential captions?

(Have I mentioned my love for jewelry??) Paul and I bought stuff our friends, our moms, our mom’s friends, our mom’s friends’ friend…, well you get the point. Don’t worry, I also bought stuff for me, myself, and I. We emptied our wallets, and two to three hours later, headed back to our hotel to get dressed to meet Sujeet and then Suma’s parents.

Sujeet met us at the Haji Ali Mosque, an exquisitely beautiful structure built in 1431 in the middle of the ocean.

Fun Fact: The mosque can only be accessed during low tide from a walkway, and on Thursdays and Fridays, pilgrims flock there to honor the Muslim saint that built the mosque. Unfortunately, when we passed through the entrance to the walkway, security stopped us and gestured that we could not take pictures. Terribly disappointing. So I pouted and walked slowly, all the while itching to snap pictures, until I discovered a ton a people snapping pictures with mobile phones and little point and shoots. What disrespect, is what I would have thought if I was the security guard. But I wasn’t, so I grabbed Paul’s camera and started snapping.

Paul made sure to mention the similarities of our cameras, so I promised my camera to him if his got confiscated. Best promise ever because it paid off. As the sun set over the ocean and the breeze slowly washed over our faces, I forgot about the crazy Mumbai. The only sounds came from the chanting group of musicians and the ocean waves.

After Haji Ali, we went with Sujeet to his parent’s house. The original plan involved taking the train, but Sujeet feared for our safety, and unfortunately, we had to miss out on this opportunity and take a cab.

There is no better way to get to know your friends than by meeting their parents. We all think that we are extremely different from our parents, but it is not until you see your friend’s parents that you realize how similar you are to your own parents.

Suma’s parents greeted us like we were their own children. There were a few awkward moments in the beginning as were both a little unsure of each other, but after a few background questions, the baby pictures came out. Sujeet could not contain the excitement he had when showing us any and all incriminating photos of our friend Suma. We saw it all!!. From the early attitude to the spunk that is Suma. Paul and I maybe took photos and videos of the entire experience. Maybe (wink).

Amazing right?

Side Note:
Dear Suma,
It’s Paul’s fault. The video could have maybe been my idea. But everything else is most definitely 100% all Paul’s fault.
Luv,
CC

When Devang finally showed up to dinner, we ate a feast. Suma’s mom cooked an amazing meal that kept us too occupied to record its deliciousness. Auntie even (per Suma’s request) made us a less spicier version of the food, afraid that we would not be able to handle the spiciness of traditional Indian food. I devour spicy. I live spicy. I love spicy. And I ate all of the regular spicy food. And when I say all, I mean all. I think she was happy that I ate so much albeit a bit scared at my ridiculous appetite. Have I mentioned that I can eat enough for a family of four in one sitting, seriously. My friends can vouch for my bottomless stomach.

We all chatted for a bit longer before saying bye to Auntie and heading out with Devang.

First stop: WTF bar. Fun Fact: Best bar name. Ever.

As a manly man, Paul’s first line of business was ordering some sort of mango drink of some sort. Very manly. Devang and his friends’ ordered some food, but I had no more room after Suma’s mom’s epic cooking. (Okay, maybe a little.) Although, this place served beef, which I thought was illegal in India. Per my body’s needs, I spent most of the time trying to stay awake. I truly cannot sit in one place for too long.

After the WTF bar, we headed to one of Devang’s friend’s house at 2 ish am. Completely unannounced, I might add. In fact, Devang’s friend slept inside. Devang, of course, had no qualms banging on the door and waking up whoever slept inside. Turns out, it wasn’t even his friend’s house. It was his friend’s parent’s house that was occupied by his friend’s sleeping parents. Minor detail Devang. The next few hours were spent chilling on the roof of his friend’s parent’s home. Sadly, I do not remember much of it because I spent most of the time trying NOT to fall asleep. Me = Lame Party Pooper

Paul, however, did a great job staying up as it was his last day. Tomorrow he leaves for the States and I continue the journey in India alone for a few more days.