Fri 14 Nov Mumbai Byculla
8:30 small breakfast (same as usual: idli, sambal, banana, and tea).- out to see Crawford Market. We pass some government office buildings with police and guards galore. We know we are getting close to the market when we start seeing large numbers of folks carrying baskets on their heads coming toward us. Quite a sight to see someone with eight crates stacked one atop the other
The first place we find is the fish market, a huge floor of just fish and seafood vendors. The remarkable thing was that it did not smell at all. Fresh, fresh, fresh. In India we have seen huge numbers of people whose job it is to keep things clean, wet, orderly, etc. Too bad that there were no onsite eateries.
We go out (where it was somewhat mucky), looking for the animal market, or fruit and vegetable market, or whatever. In this direction is no market. We turn and pop into a building, which turns out to be all electronics. A tablet vendor pulls out a no-name tablet and we start bargaining. Finally at 2600 R ($43) we have a deal. The first deal of the morning is viewed by sellers as a portend of the rest of the day. He won this one, thinks Carol. Probably nothing we couldn't have done in ATL.
Across the street is another market. We enter into a dry goods section, then spices. Carol tried unsuccessfully to match the after dinner "mouth freshener" at one vendor; close but not quite.
On to fruits and vegetables: humongous persimmons, piles of pineapples (some cut in strange and wondrous ways), papayas, strawberries in boxes, figs in wrapped packages of 12, etc.
There are pets for sale, including mice. A cage of small turkeys was just between two cages of pet birds, so when the vendor provided water to the birds, the turkeys went absolutely crazy trying to get some of the dripping water.
Finally to the meat market, where butchers were killing and cleaning chickens, and dismembering smaller animals with big curved knives. We saw the cat stalking the rat here. Perhaps we were too late. This section of Crawford Market seemed fairly small.
We are through with the market. Back to the CST railway station, past a barber shaving a customer on the sidewalk. An 8 min wait to buy 2 second class 5 R tickets to Byculla, a section of the city 3 stops (8 min) to the north.
A train is pulling away. We hop onto a First Class compartment and quickly change to Second at the next station. This time of day (10:30) (the end of the morning rush hour), the southbound trains are still crush loaded, but the northbound trains are relatively empty.
At Byculla we are out and walking. A km or less, we are in a mostly Muslim neighborhood. Lots of tailors for men and women. We pass a parking area with signs: "No Parking in Front of Gate" and "No Parking for Outsiders Tyre will be Deflated."
We turn the corner and find Magen Hasidim, one of the several still functioning Bnei Israel synagogues. For 200 R (100 R to enter, 100 R to photograph) we are in this beautiful synagogue. It is the newest synagogue in Mumbai, having been built 83 years ago. Synagogues come in two flavors: Bnei Israel, dating from the original Jews who came 2000 years ago (?); and Baghdadi or Iraqi Jews who came in the 1800s. The most famous of these were the Sassoon family, who dominated trading in the India, China area for well over a hundred years.
At this time (1200) Carol notices that Mike's pants had torn in the seat.
There are vendors with all sorts of vegetables needed for daily cooking, including greens of all types, which we had not previously seen. We've passed the tailors.
On towards Mumbai Central Station, looking for lunch and some pants. At a stand, Mike stops to get two samosas for 10 R each. What he is actually getting is two plates. The samosa itself is crushed and covered with piles of stuff to make something like a bhel puri chaat. Carol didn't want much of this, so Mike was stuffing himself for 20 R (33 c). Next door was a sugar cane juice vendor. He was squeezing the cane, then running it through again and again to get out all the sweetness. On some of the passes, he also added a lime or two for flavor. Two cups of really good juice (10 R each) later, we were on our way.
According to bystanders, a pants store was that way, or rather this way. After a few false starts, we are in an actual haberdashery. Mike tries on two pairs selected by the clerks, and picks one for 2050 R ($35 - American prices, but a really good fit and fabric). During this process, Carol has been talking with a Gujarati relative of the shopkeeper, who turns out to be the owner of a motel in Duluth MN. He's home to visit family. We "talk Minnesota" for a while. He tells her about a trip down I-35 though Kansas to Texas. This gentleman gives Mike a Coke. We relax there for a while.
Finally, it is off back to the hotel. A 61 or 66 bus will take us to CST and Fort. A 61 comes along. We are riding along, and Carol says Stop, Get Off. Her finely tuned "Zoroastrian Detector" has triggered and we walk into a Fire Temple. This turn out to be an old Parsi neighborhood. Anyway, we snap a few pictures before a nice gentleman comes out and politely gives us a bum's rush out of the place. Carol parries with her Iran visa. No dice. No Non-Parsis Allowed, Ever!! He says that the local government wants to be sure that no non-Parsis are converted. He asks about our religion. When he learns that we are Jewish, he adds that our faiths are similar, but we still have to leave.
Across the street is another Parsi Temple. Again. No, No, No. It is now 1500. We walk for a few blocks, walking into a student library building. Then we catch a bus (66) back to the hotel.
Inside we decompress while Mike tries to get the tablet to work. 30 minutes later and he has Blogger working, but with clumsy thumbs it is too hard. We relax.
Finally, about 1745 we get up to go to Friday night services at Knesset Eliyahu. First, a stop at a neighborhood soda shop for falooda, a special kind of ice cream.
We finally arrive at 1825 for "1830" services, which are well underway. We sit down (men on one side, women on the other [not upstairs]) with a few locals and lots of foreign visitors. A group of Australian women are on some kind of Federation visit. The Chabad rabbi was there, to lead a rousing version of L'Cha Dodi, pulling the men into a hora. Some women dance, too.
Nathaniel, a Mumbai native who had lived in Atlanta, and with whom Carol had communicated, came over and introduced himself. After services, he invited both of us downstairs for a Shabbat dinner. About 17-18 of us around a table, 6 or 7 local, the rest visitors (the Aussies have headed off). Three sisters from South Africa, etc.
After challah, a great Indo-Jewish feast: chicken meatballs in gravy to start, then chicken and potatoes, several veggies, rice, Indian breads. After, a platter of fresh fruits: chikoo, papaya, pineapple, watermelon.
One woman invited us to services at Tiferet Israel the next morning in Mahalaxmi, beginning at 7 am.
It is 2000. Back to the hotel to pack for an early start the next am.
8:30 small breakfast (same as usual: idli, sambal, banana, and tea).- out to see Crawford Market. We pass some government office buildings with police and guards galore. We know we are getting close to the market when we start seeing large numbers of folks carrying baskets on their heads coming toward us. Quite a sight to see someone with eight crates stacked one atop the other
The first place we find is the fish market, a huge floor of just fish and seafood vendors. The remarkable thing was that it did not smell at all. Fresh, fresh, fresh. In India we have seen huge numbers of people whose job it is to keep things clean, wet, orderly, etc. Too bad that there were no onsite eateries.
We go out (where it was somewhat mucky), looking for the animal market, or fruit and vegetable market, or whatever. In this direction is no market. We turn and pop into a building, which turns out to be all electronics. A tablet vendor pulls out a no-name tablet and we start bargaining. Finally at 2600 R ($43) we have a deal. The first deal of the morning is viewed by sellers as a portend of the rest of the day. He won this one, thinks Carol. Probably nothing we couldn't have done in ATL.
Across the street is another market. We enter into a dry goods section, then spices. Carol tried unsuccessfully to match the after dinner "mouth freshener" at one vendor; close but not quite.
On to fruits and vegetables: humongous persimmons, piles of pineapples (some cut in strange and wondrous ways), papayas, strawberries in boxes, figs in wrapped packages of 12, etc.
There are pets for sale, including mice. A cage of small turkeys was just between two cages of pet birds, so when the vendor provided water to the birds, the turkeys went absolutely crazy trying to get some of the dripping water.
Finally to the meat market, where butchers were killing and cleaning chickens, and dismembering smaller animals with big curved knives. We saw the cat stalking the rat here. Perhaps we were too late. This section of Crawford Market seemed fairly small.
We are through with the market. Back to the CST railway station, past a barber shaving a customer on the sidewalk. An 8 min wait to buy 2 second class 5 R tickets to Byculla, a section of the city 3 stops (8 min) to the north.
A train is pulling away. We hop onto a First Class compartment and quickly change to Second at the next station. This time of day (10:30) (the end of the morning rush hour), the southbound trains are still crush loaded, but the northbound trains are relatively empty.
At Byculla we are out and walking. A km or less, we are in a mostly Muslim neighborhood. Lots of tailors for men and women. We pass a parking area with signs: "No Parking in Front of Gate" and "No Parking for Outsiders Tyre will be Deflated."
We turn the corner and find Magen Hasidim, one of the several still functioning Bnei Israel synagogues. For 200 R (100 R to enter, 100 R to photograph) we are in this beautiful synagogue. It is the newest synagogue in Mumbai, having been built 83 years ago. Synagogues come in two flavors: Bnei Israel, dating from the original Jews who came 2000 years ago (?); and Baghdadi or Iraqi Jews who came in the 1800s. The most famous of these were the Sassoon family, who dominated trading in the India, China area for well over a hundred years.
At this time (1200) Carol notices that Mike's pants had torn in the seat.
There are vendors with all sorts of vegetables needed for daily cooking, including greens of all types, which we had not previously seen. We've passed the tailors.
On towards Mumbai Central Station, looking for lunch and some pants. At a stand, Mike stops to get two samosas for 10 R each. What he is actually getting is two plates. The samosa itself is crushed and covered with piles of stuff to make something like a bhel puri chaat. Carol didn't want much of this, so Mike was stuffing himself for 20 R (33 c). Next door was a sugar cane juice vendor. He was squeezing the cane, then running it through again and again to get out all the sweetness. On some of the passes, he also added a lime or two for flavor. Two cups of really good juice (10 R each) later, we were on our way.
According to bystanders, a pants store was that way, or rather this way. After a few false starts, we are in an actual haberdashery. Mike tries on two pairs selected by the clerks, and picks one for 2050 R ($35 - American prices, but a really good fit and fabric). During this process, Carol has been talking with a Gujarati relative of the shopkeeper, who turns out to be the owner of a motel in Duluth MN. He's home to visit family. We "talk Minnesota" for a while. He tells her about a trip down I-35 though Kansas to Texas. This gentleman gives Mike a Coke. We relax there for a while.
Finally, it is off back to the hotel. A 61 or 66 bus will take us to CST and Fort. A 61 comes along. We are riding along, and Carol says Stop, Get Off. Her finely tuned "Zoroastrian Detector" has triggered and we walk into a Fire Temple. This turn out to be an old Parsi neighborhood. Anyway, we snap a few pictures before a nice gentleman comes out and politely gives us a bum's rush out of the place. Carol parries with her Iran visa. No dice. No Non-Parsis Allowed, Ever!! He says that the local government wants to be sure that no non-Parsis are converted. He asks about our religion. When he learns that we are Jewish, he adds that our faiths are similar, but we still have to leave.
Across the street is another Parsi Temple. Again. No, No, No. It is now 1500. We walk for a few blocks, walking into a student library building. Then we catch a bus (66) back to the hotel.
Inside we decompress while Mike tries to get the tablet to work. 30 minutes later and he has Blogger working, but with clumsy thumbs it is too hard. We relax.
Finally, about 1745 we get up to go to Friday night services at Knesset Eliyahu. First, a stop at a neighborhood soda shop for falooda, a special kind of ice cream.
We finally arrive at 1825 for "1830" services, which are well underway. We sit down (men on one side, women on the other [not upstairs]) with a few locals and lots of foreign visitors. A group of Australian women are on some kind of Federation visit. The Chabad rabbi was there, to lead a rousing version of L'Cha Dodi, pulling the men into a hora. Some women dance, too.
Nathaniel, a Mumbai native who had lived in Atlanta, and with whom Carol had communicated, came over and introduced himself. After services, he invited both of us downstairs for a Shabbat dinner. About 17-18 of us around a table, 6 or 7 local, the rest visitors (the Aussies have headed off). Three sisters from South Africa, etc.
After challah, a great Indo-Jewish feast: chicken meatballs in gravy to start, then chicken and potatoes, several veggies, rice, Indian breads. After, a platter of fresh fruits: chikoo, papaya, pineapple, watermelon.
One woman invited us to services at Tiferet Israel the next morning in Mahalaxmi, beginning at 7 am.
It is 2000. Back to the hotel to pack for an early start the next am.
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