home again

It's been a long time, but I have traveled a long way.

My travels took me first to Nagpur, a city about 6 hours away from Umarkhed. It was a beautiful city, that somehow reminded me of Columbus. There was a lot of space. While visiting friends in Nagpur, we watched a couple browse the singles listings on-line, looking for a marriage mate for a sister. It seems that the Internet is one main way that NRI's find marriage partners back in the home land.

We visited Ghandi's Ashram. Loren noted that unlike Independence hall, there were no metal detectors, no armed guards, nothing. The beautiful simplicity of it all was inspiring, as was the elderly resident who lectured us about truth and discipline. We also visited a Buddhist Stupa, a blinding white monument with gold statues. For some reason, it felt odd to see Japanese writing. It was serene, and surrounded by immaculate gardens - a great escape from the bustling city.

In Bombay, I felt more like I was in the US than in India. Everyone (except the cab drivers) spoke English. American songs poured out of cafes and cars. I could order a beer, fettuccine alfredo, pizza. Peanut butter and mayonaise were on the shelves of convenient stores. We did touristy things, like the gate of India, the Taj Mahal hotel...

We stayed in a hotel in Dongri, a Muslim neighborhood north of Colaba. At night, after they broke their fast, the streets were so busy there was barely room to walk. Rush hour made NYC rush hour look manageable.

Mumbai was rich. Mumbai was poor. The roads were paved, but were littered with impoverished sleeping bodies. There are miles and miles of roadside shacks, that those who can afford cars drive past daily. I would imagine that if you live near this poverty, if you see it day in and day out, you would become immune to it. The naked children playing in the street would become a nuisance, the cries of the beggar woman reduced to background noise.

Denny, Loren, and I have often said to one another that we wish we could visit the US for one day, and in a way, Mumbai was that booster of the western world that we needed. But when the car pulled onto that familiar dirt road filled with women walking with sticks on their heads and herds of buffalo, I felt like I was coming home.