Baptised in Bombay...Literally!

The Laundry District in Mumbai

Flat Screen Over The Bathtub! 

While this short blog may start off seemingly heavy-handed, I can assure you there’s good comic relief in the end - at my own expense!  This was my first time to India and although it was a short stay, the flight on United Airlines (which I now call the Greyhound Bus of the sky) felt much longer.  I gained a lifetime's worth of perspective which I hope will only manifest in more wisdom and gratitude.   I went for the Mahindra Blues Festival (who knew?) and I had 4 days to wander the complex, tragically beautiful and chaotic city of Mumbai.  Upon arrival at our 5 star hotel we were greeted by the volunteers running the festival, all young college students eager to show us a great time. 

Me and My "Guide" Stefano

After greeting the boys in my band,  Walter Latupeirissa,  Piero Perelli and Bob Fridzema, who had just arrived from Holland and Italy, we shared a delicious meal and talked into the wee hours trying the beat the jetlag.   We made our plan, sleep or no sleep, to get up and see everything possible as our incredible promoter, Jairam, so generously arranged guides and drivers to take us around in vans to see the sights.

I was last to arrive at the lobby call time in the morning, after only 3 hours of sleep.  Apparently, word had gotten out that I wanted to see the real India and I was to be taken shopping instead!  I pleaded with my guide and new friend, Stefano, to please take me where the people live.  He tried to convince me that it’s nothing I’d want to see and I assured him it was ALL that I wanted to see.   He sighed, smiled and conceded.   I read up a bit prior to coming over and thought I was prepared.   Words on paper can’t possibly give the real picture, so I’ve included a few that might.

The first day we were taken to the more middle class area and it was absolute mayhem in all of its splendor!   Rickshaws fighting their way through heavy traffic that seemed to go in every desired direction in any given moment!  There were scooters carrying whole families, with Mom, Dad and children ranging from what looked like 3 to 10 years old, all on one tiny scooter whizzing through the treacherous traffic like professional stunt drivers.  The trucks all seemed to be leaking some kind of hazardous liquid, teetering double-decker buses that had seen far better days carrying locals and taxis plowing through the masses honking their horns and cutting everyone off like a dystopian scene from the film, "Blade Runner!"  Everywhere were billboards advertising some kind of disinfectant with text that read, “Danny Diarrhea Leaps Into Your Slippers!" depicted by a cartoon germ and feces.  Or “Tatya Typhoid Travels Into Your Towel!"  Tatya being a cute little cartoon germ, herself.  Along this “Mad Max-esque” highway were the people.  Hawking their wares outside of store-fronts made of scrap metal and wood that looked to be on the verge of collapse at any moment.   Men and women barbequing meat in the streets and roasting corn kernels with smoke billowing above.  The smell of incense burning and seared meat was perfume compared to what I was about to inhale over the following days.   After this "middle class" experience I wanted more.   I did some research online that night and found out where the 'other half' lived and I begged Stefano to show me.   So, the next 2 days we were taken a little deeper into the “slums,” where I was greeted by locals asking me to take their picture in exchange for rupees.  The begging culture is heartbreaking and worthy of a whole other blog.   People have erected shanty homes on the sidewalks, beside the long noisy highways, completely open and exposed.   If they were a little more fortunate, their highway sidewalk home was sheltered by tents of green tarp held up by bamboo, OR the much more fortunate made their dwellings in the scrap metal and wood structures attached side by side and stacked top to bottom.  The children play in the streets and on the highway barefoot!  Sleeping dogs lie in the middle of the highway,  skinny cats on hot tin roofs prowl for food the humans can't spare, clothes dry in the blistering sun, beggars beg, babies beg, lepers smile for photos, children play with broken bicycles and other garbage next to rats either dead and covered in swarms of flies, or alive and nibbling on the waste strewn about.   

Yet everyone was always smiling.  No, this does not, in my opinion justify an arcane caste system that indentures  humans in such squalor, however it is an incredible example of how attached most of us are to our comforts, and how little we remember to appreciate them.  I’ll admit I was indeed grateful each night to return to my 5 star, air conditioned hotel and shower off after the trek around these grimy smelly, yet somehow beautiful places. I was mystified yet also bewildered by it all.  This and jetlag gave me 4 sleepless nights in Mumbai.  The night before we left was our show.  The turnout was incredible! The audience was so enthusiastic and ready to listen and take the ride with us.   It was a brand of energy I haven’t quite felt before and I’ve had some pretty amazing audiences around the world.  The festival was simply charged with the electricity of discovery and passion!  Bands from all over the world, including a few of my friends from the states, coupled with crowds from the various parts of India all coming together to bear witness to a music quite new for them - Blues and Rock.  We were flooded with hugs, tears of joy and accolades afterward.  The people and promoters had such gratitude for us coming to perform yet I was the one who felt I had received the most amazing gift!  The show ended with almost all of us from the states jamming on an old Bobby Bland gospel tune I chose called, “Turn On Your Lovelight."  As I sang, the jam was led by the headliner, the INCREDIBLE Robert Randolph & The Family Band, who played in churches their whole lives growing up.  I think we were all possessed by the spirits of Indra, Ganesh, Vishnu, et al, combined with the amazing, high spirited people of complex and beautiful India.  After the show,  I went back to my room and having had a total of 11 hours of sleep in 4 days, I passed the hell out!   Sadly, I woke up and it was time to go but I wasn’t ready. 
I wasn’t done with this other world.
But, bleary-eyed and still half asleep, I made my way to the lobby to say my goodbyes to our wonderful promoter and new friends from the festival.  This is where the fun starts.  Just as I was saying my goodbyes,  hugging and thanking our guides and crew, I somehow didn’t notice the 3 inch high ledge surrounding the decorative rectangular, fountain pool in the center of the hotel lobby and before I knew it, I was taking the Nestea Plunge right into it!  I fell full on, back first, like I was being baptized in the Ganges River!
It was a cold, wet shock and all I remember is yelling, “OH SHIT, MY iPHONE!”  Then I looked up, still sitting in the water, to see a myriad of dark, beautiful eyes staring back at me in shock and concern.  All I could do was lie there laughing hard for a minute, of course ONLY after Jon Diamond deftly pulled my bag from my arm to save my iPhone, a move which I think shocked everyone even more than me falling!  Only then did I assess any possible physical damage and fortunately I had nothing more than bruised arm and ego - and behold, my iPhone survived!  Talk about attachment to luxury material goods!  Had I not learned any humility during my 4 day trek through sheer poverty and utter deprivation?   I suppose maybe it takes more than 4 days to experience realization and therein lies the problem.  Hope you enjoy the pictures and that they give you the same reminder of just how fortunate we are. 
Much Love and Namaste, Dana

Me in a Walter Trout + Robert Randolph Sandwich.  Lucky Dana!