What exactly have I gotten myself into?!
This thought would cross my mind at regular intervals my first few days in India.

Stepping onto the streets of Mumbai with the equivalent of $5 in rupees, no sense of direction, and an oversized backpack can quickly jolt your mind to attention. The beaches of Thailand just 36 hours ago instantly became a         distant memory. I use the term Mumbai “street” in the loosest sense. Occasional stones formed a dotted border to the pocked and splotchy surface between them; I could only assume this was the historic remains of a curb. The street surface was a splattered mosaic of dirt, pavement, garbage, and all manner of other material, the arrangement of which would have made Jackson Pollack jealous.

Before I dared flip-flop my way across this mine field I stood still and surveyed the situation. It occurred to me at that moment that an overpriced cab ride to a nice hotel might have been a better arrangement. Just showing up in a section of the city which was supposed to have a few guest houses seemed unwise at the moment.

  On the plane ride from Bangkok to Mumbai I had prepared myself for the worst. I imagined a jam packed mass of bodies’ swirling around me, emptying my pockets of all their content before I could take two steps. On the other hand the optimist in me said India’s cities would all be a cake walk after experiencing the press of the crowd pushing through a Beijing train station, or the kamikaze bikes of Saigon. I had also reasoned that a hastily arranged trip to one of India’s epicenters of confusion would be good practice for my upcoming jaunts in Africa. The scene before my eyes at that moment I crawled out of the cab fell well outside the spectrum of my mental preparations. Not better. Not worse. Just beyond the scope of my limited imagination.

Miniature taxis, auto rickshaws, men, women, children and livestock all swirling their way through dust, smoke, and horns. There were no lanes of traffic, just clusters of cars honking as they tried to negotiate their way passed each other in every different direction. There were numerous faces staring at me, all were wearing an expression suggesting “This guy is not in the right place.” As if to echo the opinion of the locals my mind was saying “Yeh what the hell are we doing here? I’m going back to the coconut beaches of Thailand…good luck!” My 8 months of travelers sense and judgment were about to abandon me on their way back to a hammock on the beach.

 Just then I noticed a man crossing the street and staring at me so intently he walked right into the ass end of a bull    that was chewing away at some trash in the middle of the road. He quickly realized the immovable object was in fact “just” a bull. Instead of cautiously sidestepping around the massive animal, he nonchalantly slapped the bull on the ass and waited for his path to be cleared. The bull then lazily shuffled his way between the cars, oblivious to the honking horns, continuously chewing. As the man resumed his stride, he looked back at me with a smile that broke into laughter. After I picked my jaw up off the ground, I broke into laughter too. I continued watching the man as he finished crossing. He reached the other side, looked back and waved before being swallowed up in the commotion.

It was at that instant that my mental faculties returned, their mutinous flight to Thailand postponed for now. Somehow the man’s smile and laughter had changed all the ominous stares into curious admiration. This circus of chaos was welcoming me. I just didn’t know how to see it at first.

India: Circus of Chaos3.052
Tags: India, 1st Impression, Bombay, City, confusion, Mumbai