Dhobi Ghat and the Haji Ali

The other day I was in serious photographer mode (that's what I call the mood I'm in when I'm actually willing to lug my camera plus my bag on to the rush hour trains). So I have lots of photos of the sights that I saw. Truthfully, I have actually been to both the places pictured above before, but I didn't have my fancy shmancy lens, and apparently I never blogged about them (oops, laziness mixed with having too much fun last year). So for all intents and purposes, this is brand new material (woot woot).

Alright down to business, the first five pictures are from Dhobi Ghat. It's a neighborhood in Mumbai where an astounding percentage of the city's laundry goes to get cleaned by hand. People wash the clothes in the basins in the middle, dry them on lines on the roof and live around the periphery. You can see this all happen from a bridge that extends from the Mahalaxmi stop on the train. After nerding out taking pictures with my stalker lens (yes, I have stopped to pause at the ethical implications), I convinced my hostel-mates to trek the 20 minutes to the Haji Ali. Now, I totally framed it in terms of the sight to see (and it is a sight, a mosque in the middle of the water), but I was at at least 60-40 interested in strawberry creme over taking pictures of the mosque.

The walk from Dhobi Ghat to the Haji Ali, was very interesting. I stopped to see the tail end of someone getting a tattoo on the street. The tattoo giver rubbed tumeric paste on it, while I asked how much it hurt. Continuing on, we passed the Mahalaxmi race course (horses!). Every so often along the way I asked directions. This is one habit I have developed in Bombay: continuously asking people which way to go. There are a couple reasons for this. It's a really common thing to do, especially on the road. Often people will just sort of point and make a fanning gesture with your hand. Normally one would think that means straight all the way, or just ahead, but I have learned from experience that it actually means keep going until you are sure you must of missed it and then ask again. Anyhow, one of the benefits, is that you often pick up people to chat to on the way. In this instance, I confirmed with three girls that the mosque was just around the corner. They said yes and that they were going there too, so we chatted along the way. From visiting a NGO, I had learned a lot about there age group, so we talked about their exams, where they were from and their worries about getting good grades. It was great Hindi practice!

Once at the mosque, I got a strawberry creme from the famous fruit stand in front of it (last photo and close up yesterday), and then continued down the long boardwalk to the mosque. We didn't particularly want to go inside so we only made it about half way down. The shops on the left side were interesting to look at but the spectacular variety of injured/sick/mutilated beggars made my strawberry creme do trapeze acts in my stomach. I had to get ready for my night anyhow.

More on that later.
Love,
Violet