Because You Never Can Expect The Future
So I forgot about my livejournal, but honestly does anyone read it? Anyway, here is a quick run down of the last month and a bit.
My work sent me to Mumbai, India for what ended up being 5 weeks.
That pretty much sums up the majority of what happened. I went to work on a Tuesday and we got a call saying one of our clients (okay the BIG client, the one doing the movies with the chick with wings and a green dress and used to have no voice, is that a big enough hint of the project?) was sending someone out to our studio in Mumbai that weekend. Me having never gone, with a 5 day old India visa and no kiddies to take care of was designated the one to go. I was being shipped out four days later. After a flurry of toilettry buying, shot getting, doctor seeing, luggage packing and general freaking out I boarded a plane to the tune of 30 hours of traveling.
I landed in Mumbai during Monsoon season, so it was humid and sweaty and the tiny International Airport in Mumbai (aka Bombay) hit me like a brick of humidity. Being from good old Los Angeles I am completely unused to humidity so I was about to die. I went through surly customs, grabbed my brand-spanking-new suitcase and walked out to a sea of drivers attempting to get a passenger. My Five-Star-Hotel-Driver (Dan was right, he really *was* wearing white gloves) found me immediately and shuffled into his car, gave me a refreshing towl (oh the service), water and a general sense of calm. We drove through the streets of Mumbai, filled with auto-rickshaws, sarees, sandals, and a particular acrid smell I would eventually call home.
I was put up at The Taj, Lands End in Bandstand--a whopping two blocks down from Shadowkhan's house, India's biggest Hindi movie star--a place where you aren't allowed to carry your own suitcase and everyone knows your name. I was brought up to my lovely room, showered, put things away and looked at the note from Henrietta saying to call after I'd had a nap. I'd slept the majority of the two 9 and 10 hour plane rides so I called her up and got a ride to work.
Prana Studios takes up two floors in two separate buildings, crammed full with computers, artists and good spirits. It's a little daunting at first since it's dark and the eerie blue glow of monitors fills the rooms. They put me up in Kristin's cabin and everyone wondered why I hadn't bothered to take a nap.
Anyway enough of the first day break down. I honestly had trouble adjusting to Mumbai, or really being in the Indian studio. Being the new face (despite the fact that I'd been mailing Jignesh, Ashish and Krishna for ten months while on Unstable Fables), the American and smack in the end of asset production and vignettes it took a bit of time to get settled. The first week was difficult as I felt uneasy at work and not yet made friends, I was generally homesick for day 2 and day 3. Primrose, Amit and Chris took me out that weekend for a tour in Collabba. We got stuck in a fifteen minute traffic jam since Shadowkhan had taken his new convertible for a spin and was driving next to us. The whole intersection came to a dead halt after everyone was going against the lights to see the big star. Coming from Malibu-home-of-Jack-Nicholson-homeless-and-at-the-Ralphs California I was stunned to see such a big deal made out of stars. We traveled (in a cab, everyone afraid to put me in a rick still) down to downtown Mumbai to meet Chris and eat at Leopolds.
Leopolds is a 200 year old pub that serves beer, Indian food and Chinese food. Primrose then showed me around the jewelery stands and got insanely frustrated that my mere presence was driving up the prices in bargaining, until she eventually sent me away so she could get a better price. It is so much like Hawaii in that sense.
The smells in India are intense, earthy and when you are there you feel connected to everything. Perhaps because when it rains no one hides from it, they embrace it and bring an extra set of clothes. Or maybe because if you meet a hot guy in India he might just romance you and read your palms, telling you about your past and an amazing amount of detail about your future. Because honestly in a place like Mumbai you'll find someone who can see you, truly, more so than anyone in LA. Yea, I fell in love in Mumbai, which I suppose sounds typical, and I expected a mere fling, but didn't get that luxury. Instead I got the life changing experience that can only come from my life, where life only becomes more complicated as you get older. I used to constantly complain that the distance of 40 miles was too much for a relationship, apparently 12:30 hours and thousands of miles is worth it. I suppose going to India and meeting someone whose faith is so deeply felt that they can't help but express it helped to strengthen my faith. I can sometimes feel my destiny, even though my brain keeps telling me to take it slow, I can't help but be a part of it.
I made friend in Mumbai and in only a mere week back in the states have already started to realize how expensive these friends will be. In a week I've run up 5 bucks worth of MSMs at a small .15 a piece. I miss them terribly and things in LA feel so much more boring than in Mumbai. Who ever thought that LA could be boring? I suppose that is what I get for always proudly proclaiming that I was born in LA and couldn't imagine living anywhere else. Apparently I hadn't imagined India.
My work is planning to send me again, and depending on how things fall in the next couple of weeks they are estimating end of September. There's a bit of a crisis these days and I wonder if perhaps it won't be sooner. The constant hints-or honestly flat our requests-to move there do not fall on deaf ears. I still feel that I would need to return a couple more times and for longer periods before I can commit to moving even for only a year. Perhaps it's because I am too young, or have never traveled to another country before or maybe because my brain is telling me to restrain myself, but I cannot yet make that decision. My heart says something else, but that bit of homesickness was so strong, I can't imagine how I could feel that for more than a day or two.
I miss India, I miss everything about it. I miss the Hindi movies and the sea of people, the smell, the surrounding sea and the feeling of honestly in all of the roads. There's no fake-celebrating in Mumbai, parties are parties and it doesn't matter if you can't dance, you'll be dancing. People will pull you out onto the floor and never let you pay and make sure you get home and only eat in the clean road-side places. People will take you out and introduce you to their family and spend hours explaining their culture and never sound bored that you don't get some of the concepts.
Anyway, I was in India, and my life fucking rocks. So there.
My work sent me to Mumbai, India for what ended up being 5 weeks.
That pretty much sums up the majority of what happened. I went to work on a Tuesday and we got a call saying one of our clients (okay the BIG client, the one doing the movies with the chick with wings and a green dress and used to have no voice, is that a big enough hint of the project?) was sending someone out to our studio in Mumbai that weekend. Me having never gone, with a 5 day old India visa and no kiddies to take care of was designated the one to go. I was being shipped out four days later. After a flurry of toilettry buying, shot getting, doctor seeing, luggage packing and general freaking out I boarded a plane to the tune of 30 hours of traveling.
I landed in Mumbai during Monsoon season, so it was humid and sweaty and the tiny International Airport in Mumbai (aka Bombay) hit me like a brick of humidity. Being from good old Los Angeles I am completely unused to humidity so I was about to die. I went through surly customs, grabbed my brand-spanking-new suitcase and walked out to a sea of drivers attempting to get a passenger. My Five-Star-Hotel-Driver (Dan was right, he really *was* wearing white gloves) found me immediately and shuffled into his car, gave me a refreshing towl (oh the service), water and a general sense of calm. We drove through the streets of Mumbai, filled with auto-rickshaws, sarees, sandals, and a particular acrid smell I would eventually call home.
I was put up at The Taj, Lands End in Bandstand--a whopping two blocks down from Shadowkhan's house, India's biggest Hindi movie star--a place where you aren't allowed to carry your own suitcase and everyone knows your name. I was brought up to my lovely room, showered, put things away and looked at the note from Henrietta saying to call after I'd had a nap. I'd slept the majority of the two 9 and 10 hour plane rides so I called her up and got a ride to work.
Prana Studios takes up two floors in two separate buildings, crammed full with computers, artists and good spirits. It's a little daunting at first since it's dark and the eerie blue glow of monitors fills the rooms. They put me up in Kristin's cabin and everyone wondered why I hadn't bothered to take a nap.
Anyway enough of the first day break down. I honestly had trouble adjusting to Mumbai, or really being in the Indian studio. Being the new face (despite the fact that I'd been mailing Jignesh, Ashish and Krishna for ten months while on Unstable Fables), the American and smack in the end of asset production and vignettes it took a bit of time to get settled. The first week was difficult as I felt uneasy at work and not yet made friends, I was generally homesick for day 2 and day 3. Primrose, Amit and Chris took me out that weekend for a tour in Collabba. We got stuck in a fifteen minute traffic jam since Shadowkhan had taken his new convertible for a spin and was driving next to us. The whole intersection came to a dead halt after everyone was going against the lights to see the big star. Coming from Malibu-home-of-Jack-Nicholson-homeless-and-at-the-Ralphs California I was stunned to see such a big deal made out of stars. We traveled (in a cab, everyone afraid to put me in a rick still) down to downtown Mumbai to meet Chris and eat at Leopolds.
Leopolds is a 200 year old pub that serves beer, Indian food and Chinese food. Primrose then showed me around the jewelery stands and got insanely frustrated that my mere presence was driving up the prices in bargaining, until she eventually sent me away so she could get a better price. It is so much like Hawaii in that sense.
The smells in India are intense, earthy and when you are there you feel connected to everything. Perhaps because when it rains no one hides from it, they embrace it and bring an extra set of clothes. Or maybe because if you meet a hot guy in India he might just romance you and read your palms, telling you about your past and an amazing amount of detail about your future. Because honestly in a place like Mumbai you'll find someone who can see you, truly, more so than anyone in LA. Yea, I fell in love in Mumbai, which I suppose sounds typical, and I expected a mere fling, but didn't get that luxury. Instead I got the life changing experience that can only come from my life, where life only becomes more complicated as you get older. I used to constantly complain that the distance of 40 miles was too much for a relationship, apparently 12:30 hours and thousands of miles is worth it. I suppose going to India and meeting someone whose faith is so deeply felt that they can't help but express it helped to strengthen my faith. I can sometimes feel my destiny, even though my brain keeps telling me to take it slow, I can't help but be a part of it.
I made friend in Mumbai and in only a mere week back in the states have already started to realize how expensive these friends will be. In a week I've run up 5 bucks worth of MSMs at a small .15 a piece. I miss them terribly and things in LA feel so much more boring than in Mumbai. Who ever thought that LA could be boring? I suppose that is what I get for always proudly proclaiming that I was born in LA and couldn't imagine living anywhere else. Apparently I hadn't imagined India.
My work is planning to send me again, and depending on how things fall in the next couple of weeks they are estimating end of September. There's a bit of a crisis these days and I wonder if perhaps it won't be sooner. The constant hints-or honestly flat our requests-to move there do not fall on deaf ears. I still feel that I would need to return a couple more times and for longer periods before I can commit to moving even for only a year. Perhaps it's because I am too young, or have never traveled to another country before or maybe because my brain is telling me to restrain myself, but I cannot yet make that decision. My heart says something else, but that bit of homesickness was so strong, I can't imagine how I could feel that for more than a day or two.
I miss India, I miss everything about it. I miss the Hindi movies and the sea of people, the smell, the surrounding sea and the feeling of honestly in all of the roads. There's no fake-celebrating in Mumbai, parties are parties and it doesn't matter if you can't dance, you'll be dancing. People will pull you out onto the floor and never let you pay and make sure you get home and only eat in the clean road-side places. People will take you out and introduce you to their family and spend hours explaining their culture and never sound bored that you don't get some of the concepts.
Anyway, I was in India, and my life fucking rocks. So there.