Day 294, Mumbai, India
With the exception of Australia, for many months now we’ve traveled to cultures where physically, we do more than just not blend, we stand out. Except for me. My stature and hair color make it possible for me to slide under the radar, at least until I open my mouth. But the girls and Paul haven’t blended in quite sometime. When we are in touristy areas, the local people are used to seeing different kinds of people, but with Airbnb, we are usually staying in very residential areas which aren’t barraged with foreign visitors. So we get it that people want to check us out, it’s a natural curiosity, a way of taking in information with one’s eyes. In the countries we’ve visited so far, people stare, but will look away if you make eye contact.
Cali, the most observant one in the group, noticed the staring culture first, at the gate when flying from Singapore to Mumbai. She said, “Why is absolutely everyone staring at us, mom?”Again at the hotel we checked into. The men working there, all six of them lined up in the lobby and stared at us. I chalked it up to it being a cultural difference, which it is. But somehow, even knowing that, it is only slightly more tolerable when it comes to the constant, unbroken stares.
When we were taking a taxi and stopped at a light, I kid you not, everyone in the cars and tuks next to us were staring into our taxi, four or five faces in a window. The girls said, “Look, they are even staring from the next lane over.” It was true. Everyone who could see us, even from a distance, were all staring at us. I shifted my body to block at least one of the windows, it was too creepy, 16 unblinking eyes. When I leaned back, all the eyes would return on us.
In India the staring is at a level that is unnerving compared to what’s considered acceptable in our own culture. People in groups will stare unrelentingly at us, then talk and point while staring. In your head you make cultural allowances by telling yourself that staring isn’t considered rude here. But holy crap it just feels weird after they don’t break eye contact, and are like groups of frozen statues looking at you. As an adult you can shrug it off, but with the girls, you naturally feel a bit more protective of what’s happening. The gawking, jeering, and commenting to the girls was over the top. Made them uncomfortable. Made me uncomfortable. I started saying to the commenting groups of guys, “Hey, be more respectful!” I wasn’t going to let them go unchecked, especially when they were in groups and it felt almost like a bizarre swarming of unwanted, intimidating attention. No it’s not ok in any culture to let that go on. Verbal gender bullying, although more common in some cultures, doesn’t excuse the bad behavior. Cat-calling shouldn’t be excused or tolerated in any culture, period. So no matter where I am in the world, my own neighborhood or one far away, it’s not ok to objectify women, and I will speak up. We all should collectively, no matter where we live. Let’s put an end to it.
I’m not gonna pretend otherwise, I like being at the Grand Hyatt, where clearly part of the staff’s training is not to stare because in some cultures it’s extremely impolite. I’ll take it.
Today we went to Linking Road, a popular shopping area. We got to see first hand how cars can be within 2-3 inches of each other as a rule and not an exception. But women wearing beautiful saris are everywhere. The beautiful flowy cloth of bright colors are a contrast to the otherwise dark and dirty streets on which they seem to magically float.
Our taxi driver took us way out of the way to his kick-back store. He pulled up to what appeared to be an abandoned building, locks on the front gate. He said it’s a famous place and to just go in and look around, that we were on Linking Road. At that point we probably should have bailed, but we played along, went in a really sketch building, looked at the stuff and then he drove us to the place we had asked to go. As we were looking around I was walking to another room while Cali and Madi were in another. A man said, “Are you just going to leave your daughters here?!” I said, they aren’t little girls and can join me when they are ready. He didn’t like my answer.
At Linking Road there were lots of small stalls crammed into small areas, an authentic market for sure. Our taxi driver warned us that it’s not Western shopping, but for the people who live here. That’s what we wanted to see, so it was perfect. An hour or so later, while waiting for our taxi guy, we had a coffee on the second floor of a Starbucks. You’re heard of people-watching? Well here it’s more fascinating to do intersection watching, since most of them don’t have lights. There is just a place where cars, motos, scooters, cyclists, carts, pedestrians, and animals rush into with unabandoned speed and caution, and miraculously exit still alive. Fascinating setting of many miracles. The stray who seems to live outside of Starbucks had some huge scars on him, no doubt from the intersection he lives close to.
Back at the hotel we had fun in the evening, starting with a little tea.