Mumbai, (Bombay) India, Day 2 of 2

Mumbai, (Bombay) India, Day two. We had arranged for a private van with a driver and guide for the four of us. Art did not feel well and Muriel didn’t wan to go without him, so it was just Bobbi and I. This one was an 18 passenger mini bus with a real bus door and steps and a full stand up ceiling. The air conditioning was too cool and had to be turned down even though it was over 90 out. Yesterday we roasted even with fans blowing on us in that lousy bus.

We had rented the van for four hours, 10:00 AM to 2:00 PM. The guide was a heavy set woman who spoke English that sounded like American. She was very knowledgeable and cheerful. We have been lucky and have had mostly very good guides. She told us what the attractions and points of interest were and asked what we would like to see. Big problem. It seams we saw every one of them the day before. She then took us to some no one wants to see I think.

We went by a park with plants trimmed to look like animals. The fence on the outside had figures of many kinds of animals. We could see enough from the bus so we did not walk inside. Nearby were the Farsi caves. I am probably spelling it wrong but it sounds like “Far See”. She said she is Farsi and there are not many left. One cannot convert to Farsi. You must be born Farsi and that can only happen if both parents are or the father is and declares his new born to be. If only the mother is Farsi, the child cannot be. I don’t remember what she said the religion teaches as there are so many, but I do remember how they are buried. I hope you have had your lunch before you read on.

They do not bury or cremate. They take the dead to this caves area and hang them up side down in the caves. The dead are then left to be eaten by animals. The only animals that eat them here are birds. Mostly vultures. Whatever bones are left, after the birds pick them over, are dropped into the cave and covered with quick lime which quickly dissolves them. I do know a few living people I’d like to try this on but I don’t think this is for me. When I mentioned this to our butler, Ian, who is Indian and from this city, he told us a story. A friend’s mother lives in this area. One day she looks out the window and there, on her windowsill, is a crow with a finger in its beak. Oh, nummy.

We drove through a few better neighborhoods we had not seen and there was really nothing left worth seeing. We had already passed most everything we saw, the day before, so there was only one thing left to do. I told you before what happens when things get rough. Right! The tough go shopping. I must not be tough. I don’t like that idea. Bobbi does. So we went.

Now that we have been most of the way around the world and Bobbi already bought everything, there was not much left, but do not fear. She did come with a new idea. How about a sari? You know. One of those dress things some of the Indians wear. They wrap them around themselves like a used set of drapes and sometimes around their heads too. I told Bobbi that if she ever wore one I would tattoo a dot on her head and send her back here. She is fearless. This did not deter her. On she went on her sari quest. The guide knew the best sari stores and after we went into several we came to the conclusion they only go up to size very large. They do not come in huge. However, they all offered to have several sewed together to make one for her.

We are now sitting here in the middle of a large room filled with computers and about a dozen people. Neither of us has made a sound but every one is looking at us. I guess it’s because Bobbi has been reading this over my shoulder as I type and the look she is giving can only mean murder is imminent. Her looks leave nothing to wonder about. All seem to be able to read her looks. So now, to save my life, I have to do something.

I had been mistaken. It was not the saris that would not fit her. Even though the materials were beautiful, she would not buy one. It was the blouses she wanted that did not come in huge.

One of these stores did also have rugs. They were very pretty. I know that because the sales people told me that. All you have to do is kind of give a glance toward one and 7 or 8 people start unfolding and throwing them at your feet. I said I didn’t need any, but what do I know. I guess I really did, because now I own one.

After running out of sari stores, there was one thing we really did need. We had bought a fold up duffle bag with a handle and wheels in Singapore. We now had far too much junk for just that one and needed another. So we went hunting for a luggage store. The only thing they knew of was a Samsonite store we passed several times. I didn’t know if they had them, and if so, would they be too expensive for a one time use. They do have them in many sizes and colors. They are a lot more money then the one we got in Singapore but not very expensive. Mission accomplished, we went back to the ship.

Bombay is one of the most interesting cities I have ever seen. I am very happy we got to see this place. It was a great experience with many wonderful people. It is as foreign to Americans as anywhere on the planet but everyone speaks English to one degree or another. You can go anywhere and understand what is being said and they understand you. Taxis are cheap and very numerous everywhere. You will be use to them as the drivers are the same people as those in NY.

The entertainment tonight was outstanding. They got a guy who does Elton John. They claim he is the only person, authorized by Sir Elton, to do this. He sounds exactly like Elton. I have most of Elton’s albums and I know how he sounds. I am a big fan for many years.

This guy wears a wig just like Elton’s and he does the same bows and gestures. His piano playing sounds just like Elton too. The cruise director agrees. He is the one that picks or gives the final okay for the talent. He says that a number of years ago, they had the real Sir Elton John. One Million Dollars for a 45 minute show on the Mariner. Just 45 minutes. No encores, no second bow or thank you. He too cannot tell the difference when he hears them sing and play.

Indian Rug Sherm Out

(Posted on behalf of Sherman Rootberg)