Panic and relief

As I said before, holy blankety-blank guacamole. Mumbai, you are truly a mega whopper slap to the face. Sitting on our beds a Anjali Inn, I'm reflecting on meeting our liason at the airport and stuffing our bikes in the trunk, the (dangerous?) car ride over, the street kids (lots) who grappled my face when I forgot to roll up the window, the extremely welcoming staff at the inn and most of all, the smell. Such an amazing smell, one I remember from my brief trip to Chennai in 2005: flowers, humid air, trash, fire, exhaust, perfume, delicious food and spices, all mixed together. Pretty wild.

Floored as I am by the dramatic and intense entry, I can already feel a sense of calm amid the chaos. Somehow people make it work here, and so can we. Note, I say that NOW, 25 minutes after arrival, naive and enchanted. Check with me tomorrow, when I'm missing the sparkling floors and ornate hotels of Dubai and my wallet is gone and I have diarhea. Holy guacamole. As the little kids in the street begged in my face and held the window open with all their might and asked for anything I had while tracing their hands across my nose and cheeks, I held my finger on the window 'roll up' button, reminding myself that I asked for this for many, many months prior to this date, and guess what, here we are. Love it.

Location:Mumbizzle