Sign Here

My new apartment is actually the first floor of a self-standing home, not really a building. And as such, we have one, shared 'garbage lady'. She's a woman who comes once a day to collect the garbage and swept the entry way.

She's poor and obviously of a lower caste. She only speaks Marati. I can only communicate with her through my maid or the landlady. So I was told to pay her 100 rupees a month for her work. 100 rupees is about USD $1.50. 

Since I moved in at the middle of the month, my maid explained that I would be paying her at the middle of the month. This didn't go over so well and caused quite a bit of confusion. 

Today the garbage lady handed me a note, written by my landlady explaining the whole situation - mainly that she's used to being paid on the 1st and sees my payment in the middle of the month as 'late';  that the garbage lady is illiterate and confuses easily; that it's not much money but it is a big issue as 'they have a monopoly on the area and will stop taking the garbage'.  So my landlady suggest I adjust to the 18 days and pay it, then just pay the 1st of the month to keep everyone happy. 

Not a big deal so I did. However, I was the only one home and couldn't really communicate. So I wrote out the date in numbers and the amount of 100 rupees I was giving her in the moment and showed it to her. She gave me an affirmative nod. 

So I wrote out the date for the first of the next month. Again, I got the affirmative nod. 

Then I handed her the pen and asked her to sign, to which I got a negative nod. I motioned for an X. Again, a negative nod. 

And then, she motioned for me to color her thumb with the pen. So I did and she put her thumbprint next to the date. 

I'm going to buy an ink pad today. 

Sir JJ School of Art

The Sir JJ School of Applied Art is one of the oldest and most prestigious art schools in both Mumbai and India. The craftsmen who designed and built much of the school were also the same craftsmen who designed and built many of the iconic buildings in downtown Mumbai. Originally educating skilled trade artisans - mainly sculptors, painters, and illustrators - they now have courses in graphic design and photography.

Although the school prides itself on producing some the best technically skilled craftsman in the country, they don't encourage art criticism or exploring the limits of artistic expression. The majority of the students are from local villages around Mumbai with humble financial backgrounds.

The school is set on an idyllic campus in the middle of the city which includes Rudyard Kipling's childhood home.

In order to protect the work and creative space for students, as well as the historical elements of the campus, visitors are not usually permitted to enter and wander. However, the very first foreign student to attend and also about to graduate from the school is a friend of mine. I accompanied her as she prepared her exhibit for graduation day, strolled the campus, and enjoyed basking in the creative energy.

Directions

I actually sent these texts to a friend who was lost the first time on her way to the pilates studio I go to. Reading them afterwards, it's amusing to think they actually got her there!

"It's at the corner of SB Patil road (slum street) and the no name road with the Maple store at the other end."

"If you're at the park, go north. It's on the no name street after the top of the park and before the street with the Sikh temple - (gurudwara). They'll be a million rickshaw on the road. It's the last building on the left."

"The building is called Business Plaza…it's run down and the sign is painted on the side of it in black and white."

New Apartment

If you're not happy, change.

My first year and a half in India, I lived in a 7th floor, three bedroom, two bathroom (plus a sink in the hallway) apartment with a small, but modern kitchen and 15 foot ceilings. It had A/C, ceiling fans, and a washer, dryer, and balconies off each bedroom and the living room looking out over a mango tree, the slums, and the international airport. It was in an apartment complex of ten buildings, with security guards, an elevator, and 'secure' parking. And I didn't like it from day one. 

Although big, the apartment was too big for me. The high ceilings made it difficult to cool, let alone clean properly. The west facing windows meant that from noon on, every day, the apartment got very hot. The curtains were too short for the windows and didn't close properly, so my belongings were beginning to fade. Standing in my kitchen I could read the airline names on the tails of the planes as they landed. At 3am, there was an enormous plane that left each night. Although very close to my work, the area was far from anything else in the city I wanted to do. The area is in transition, from industrial machine shops, auto chop shops, with small villages in between, to enormous high rises of slum rehabilitation housing, a shiny office buildings, and the newest, largest mall in India. 

I was not happy with my transportation options. Taxis were hard to find, often wouldn't travel there at night, and radio cabs failed to show up. Rickshaws were my main mode of transportation. Aside from the dust, noise, and exhausts, I realized I was clenching my teeth which was giving me migraines when I rode in them. I wasn't happy, so I made a change.  I bought a car. 

Now that my transportation issues were improved, I realized my happiness was still compromised as I hated returning to that apartment. I wasn't happy and I needed a change. Despite discouragement from colleagues in the neighborhood, I asked around, found several realtors and began looking for apartments. I must have seen at least 30 before I found the one that felt right. I found it in November, was able to move the first week of December, and then it took another month or two after I moved in to finally have it all together.

So this is it…

It's a first floor walk up in a private 'home' with three apartments, one on each floor. The landlady lives on the ground floor, but travels more than she's home. The apartment above me on the second floor is vacant. So essentially, I'm the only one in the house and an upgrade in privacy.

I have a small, combined living room/dining room. 

The living room, although small, is big enough for my flokaki and books, and looks out over a quiet meditation temple with lush gardens and trees. 

The kitchen, although older, is large with wide counters and a window that looks out over the gardens of the bungalow next door.

And it came with a refrigerator and washing machine - two things I didn't have. 

Although only one bedroom, it's large enough for my bed, dresser, wardrobe, desk, and a little lounge area. 

Without much storage space beyond the wardrobe and dresser I brought myself, I had to get a bit creative with some of my belongings. 

The single bathroom was remodeled recently with modern design fixtures and a rain shower head .