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Big day, today! Not only did I discover (again) that Jim Carrey can really act – I watched The Number 23 which was quite entertaining – I also scheduled my late activities so that I could watch East Is East a dramaesk comedy about a Pakistani/English family whose patriarch is trying to force his sons into arranged marriages. The film has its highs and lows and reminded me of my time in India and the few occasions I got the locals to chit-chat about their matrimonial customs. Note that in todays India arranged marriages are still very common.

The movie takes place in England of 1971 – the time of the Indo-Pakistani War – which makes the father rant and enrage even more. Even today the divergence between the two countries – I am not gonna say 'cultures' because to us Whiteys it’s just one – is still

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Still waiting to get back the analog photos I took during my Rajasthan travel – it's been 85 days that I returned (yeah, I am a lazy bum) – I ftp'd the ones I took with my iPhone. They're surprisingly good.
[Rajasthan Photo Gallery]

In short, I flew in to Jaipur, the pink city. Apparently, the Rajasthanis are peculiarly aware of the fucked-up beauty of the city. Whilst glowing and gleaming in the sunset, Jaipur seems like a remainder of the old heritage of the Rajput Kingdoms convulsing with the industrial charms of modern India during the day and crackling New York themed burning barrels at night. Oh yes, and it smells like crap all the time but that's true for most parts of the sub-continent.

The night train to Udaipur captured me for about twelve hours in nausea and disgust. Or let me put it like ...

One of the last things I did in Mumbai was visiting an orphanage for HIV/AIDS-infected children in the outskirts. In India, those children are treated a family disgrace and completely excluded form social life. The sisters of the order The Helpers of Mary – with the support of expatriates and medical, food and clothing donations – built a lovely home for the kids. They showed us around their dorm room and recreational area and performed a traditional dance.

There's not much more to say but how grateful we should be for leading the life that we do and the opportunities we inherited. We must not take everything for granted.



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To sum up my time in India I decided to post the remaining photos and comment on a couple of events and travels. I start with an adventurous layover at the FRRO, the Foreigners Regional Registration Office in Mumbai, which actually felt more like detention.

I feel obliged to mention that Indian law constitutes a resident a person with a habitation longer than 12 weeks (I stayed only for 3 month). Because of a screwup in the General Consulate of India in Frankfurt, Germany, I received a student visa with the condition to get registered with the local authorities. My Indian colleague covered my back in the administrative hazard that is the FRRO. We got hassled by someone who embodied importance in concurrence with inefficiency (not quite sure about the ratio, though). I had to fill out an application, tell someone – sorry, wait for them, then letting them ...

It is probably too late for a first impressions review by now. I could date back this entry but that would confuse the reality that I am a damn lazy bum. Luckily, I took notes which, now, help me put together my initial thoughts.


The airplane was about to land in Mumbai. I never really gave a thought to what was about to happen to me. But then it hit me. I was entering a strange land and probably one of the most fucked up cities in Asia. It’s hot, humid, dirty, malodorous and densely populated by over 13 million people jostling in an area of just 437.71 square meters. What a dump. What the hell was I thinking? That would have been an adequate moment to freak out. So I did. Mildly.
On the airport I got a slight handsel of the city’s taste. One of those ...