the almighty helmet

This is the end. Suiting my character I will end the Helmet in India section by intertwining something funny with something devastating, some might say tragic. Train rides: one of my favorite topics.

The Bombay metro system is a known hazard to commuters. Since nothing is alike this city, train rides blend in smoothly. They actually can kill you. I was too lazy researching numbers on how many people die riding the commute each year but just googling for images reveals horrifying proof of the 2006 train blasts; only one of the many perils. Others are mashed by the hordes of people, pushed out of an overcrowded coach and shattered on the tracks, or killed by the power supply lines whilst traveling on the train roof (great idea, by the way!). There are several websites and blogs wrapped up around this topic. And even the ...

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 ...

We just returned from a trip to Goa over the weekend [Picture Gallery]. It was clearly not enough time to get around as much as I had wished for. My friends Jan, Nicola & Anna got to stay a few days longer but I had to go back to work.

If you ever go to Goa perambulate it from north to south. Well, maybe just rent a car or get a taxi. But be prepared that they’re gonna rip you off like a cheap hussy is will take your money and leave you high and dry. I am really not complaining, maybe just exaggerating a bit. Our flight was delayed for more than three hours which gave me time to sit around the Santa Cruz domestic airport, watch people, do a little soul-searching and finally listen to music on my iPod, I hadn’t done that for at

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I wasn't aware — before going to India — that this country is completely cuckoo for cricket. They actually won the T20 World Cup (in the finals against Pakistan).
Really, cricket is the most boring game I have ever watched. At least, the locals were all nice and messed up and exhilarated but the game is even worse than baseball.

On our way to work, Jan and I got stuck in the thickest, most cramped traffic. Instead of our usual 45 minutes for 8 kilometers we got stuck for over 2 hours in the cortege of the Indian team parading themselves on a tour bus. Thousands of people streamed unto the streets, losing shoes, crashing into cars. A colleague sent me these pictures:

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After the image gallery from my trip to Khandala has been online for quite a while now, I decided to promote that a bit by picking three images and commenting on them.
I was sent to a newbie training in the mountains outside of Mumbai. The monsoon was still on but instead of the dirty and acid rain that is eating away the plaster of the buildings and giving them a nice “antique” look our faces were bathed in a light drizzle. Oh, and there were games. As part of a team building exercise they blindfolded us, made us touch one another, jump over mines, walk in the dark and turned us into construction workers. Not all of those activities are that well documented. Especially the pictures of the night trip came out a little shady {hehehe}. While being on a treasure hunt we had an out-of-nowhere encounter ...

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 ...

I am off to Mumbai, India. During the next four month I will be writing about life in a strange country...