Inconvenience Is Regretted?

Mumbai is a city under construction. Constant construction. It is needed to accommodate the ever-increasing numbers of people flocking to the Island City hoping to make their fortunes.

I was reminded of the fabulous Indian road sign (“inconvenience is regretted”, d’oh) that accompanies building work here, when we had it confirmed a few days ago that we are being moved.

This is probably the single biggest drawback to being an expat in the current economic environment.

We’re not the first and undoubtedly will not be the last people we know  in Mumbai to be moved to a more established market as companies re-jig themselves and try to survive.  We are counting ourselves lucky. We know of many people who have simply been made redundant and have headed home to face massive uncertainty.

Still, the speed of our move has come as shock to me – I feel as if I have only just settled back in from my time in Jakarta.

In a week’s time I am going to be waking up in China. And I love Mumbai! How on earth am I going to master Mandarin? And Beijing is Canada-cold for a good chunk of the year. I’ll miss monsoon. And Diwali! And there is no understanding of being veg there but at least it will get me out of eating weird things. I hope. And poor M does not have another job lined up. How on earth is he going to support his 5 kids?

These and many other thoughts are preoccupying me at the moment.

We’re now scrambling to re-visit favourite landmarks and restaurants and say our goodbyes. One of my stops is going to be the Ganesh temple at Prabadehvi. The god of the city is the remover of obstacles and  also of good times. Perhaps a coconut offering will bring us back again here some day? Somehow I don’t feel as if we’re done with Mumbai quite yet. Is that just wishful thinking?

Wife School Lesson For the Day: Supervising the packing and finding a new place to live and unpacking and getting the utilities set up AGAIN (this time there is no English language option on tap) are very definitely wifely duties. Sigh. The Beijing Chapter of Wife School beckons.

Society Affair

All blocks of flats in Mumbai are governed by the Society – an august gathering of residents who dictate the rules and regulations by which the rest of us must abide.

There is something similar in Belgium that I remember our friends J & F grappling with.

I guarantee the Indian version takes it to a new dimension. Our apartment complex is dominated by Gujarati diamond merchants (who have homes in Antwerp and New York too, naturally), a few diplomats, and rich industrialists.

Largely, Mr B and I ignore the notices announcing Society meetings, which inevitably close with the immortal line “residents are kindly requested to make the convenience to attend”.

For my own amusement as much as anything else, here are extracts from 2 of our favourite Society missives to date:

1. (19th Dec 2008) “Our building is very famous and about 10 foreigners are residing here. Hence it is at a grave risk of attack from the terrorists. It is very easy for the very well trained terrorists to kill the guards, enter the building and start killing people. Hence the entrance of the parking lot and lobby should be fully protected by adding barbed wires and other sharp pointed iron roads (sic) going up to a height of 15 ft. The place of guard at the gate should be totally attack proof. For this we should consult some good security expert. I hope immediate action will be taken by the Society on this very critical subject”.

2. (4th March 2009) “It has been noticed that food-stuffs, water mixed with oil, cigarettes (sic) butts are thrown from flats on the podium level. More specifically, it has been observed that Tower A (we’re Tower B!) side, oil mixed with water is regularly thrown from the kitchen area invariably in the morning. Residents are requested to instruct their domestic staff to refrain from doing such acts. In some flats, clothes are put out on the railing of balconies to dry. With a desire not to mar the beauty and aesthetics of the building, members may kindly instruct their staff not to hang the clothes to dry on the railings. Many cars go at high speed from Tower B to Tower A which is a potential cause for accident. Members may kindly instruct their drivers to observe speed discipline”.

The British, with their love of rules and bureaucracy, have a lot to answer for.

The Help

When we first arrived in India, we were so busy getting to grips with finding a place to live and overcoming culture-shock that we did not have a lot of time to think about getting servants.

At trailing spouse coffee mornings, I was advised that getting a good driver is one of the most important elements involved in whether or not our stay in Mumbai would be happy.

There’s no doubt that we struck it lucky finding M and Mrs M. They have taken wonderful care of us and made our lives much, much easier. The downside, however, is a lack of privacy and an avalanche of unsolicited advice. The most recurrent of which involves curd. Eating curd can cure all ills and should always be the first port of call, apparently. My favourite words of wisdom passed down from the non-English speaking Mrs M to me were that “person’s with no set schedule are inclined to become lazy.”  Yes, yes they are. Yipee!

Still, the most tricky element of having servants is trying not to get too embroiled in their lives. For some reason, we often find ourselves in the role of agony aunt and uncle. One of the trailing spouse publications cautions that as “Sir and Madam”, you may be called upon to attend family occasions or even name babies. No one said anything about arbitrating a spat between Mrs M and a family friend over alleged cheating of how much we were being charged by the car hire company. No one said anything about giving advice to M’s eldest daughter regarding her secret boyfriend.

Personally, I think it would be good for S to have a boyfriend but that is without taking the cultural context into account. Even though she is being educated at English-speaking college, it is true that if gossip starts regarding her “virtue”, her ability to find a “good” husband will be almost impossible. For a father with 5 girls, this is no small matter. Which is where I came in. As a newly married woman, I was asked to speak to S. I sweated about this for days. What on earth could I say? Where I come from having boyfriends before marriage is normal.

In the end, it turned out to be a storm in a teacup. Apparently the only interaction S and the mystery boy had actually had before the local gossips got involved, were a few conversations outside a classroom. The secret boyfriend turned out to be nothing more than an unrequited crush.

The consequences though, are astounding. S was promptly formally put out on the marriage circuit. She went through the process of meeting prospective suitors. An informal agreement with one family has already been reached. The only upside is that the family have agreed that S and her husband-to-be should both finish their respective educations. Which means the marriage will not take place for another few years.

It’s at times like this that I feel the cultural divide like a rock face.