Lesson #34 - when in Mumbai look out for turds!

Josiah and I have been making an effort to be more active in our daily lives. As most of my time is spent gazing lovingly at images of food on websites like foodgawker.com and pinterest.com and Josiah's is spent working on his computer to make me more money, neither of us actually get a whole bunch of exercise. (Apparently neither our drunk-dancing on Friday nights, nor the repetitious arm movements required to pick up the phone to order take out, constitutes as exercise). 

Anyway, since we got back from our Christmas holidays, we’ve decided to go for a walk every morning. We generally take cat food with us and stop to feed some stray cats about 50m down the road from our house. We then contemplate whether we can be bothered walking further, conclude that we can’t, and turn back. The short distance that we cover is not to be sneezed at though! I’m not kidding; the footpath here is like an Indian version of that 'Wipeout' show. There are the dodgy drain covers which threaten to cave in if you step anywhere near them (throwing you into a deep, dark canal filled with the rank sewage of a billion people). Then there's the vegetable merchants who set up shop on the foot path and bark at you to buy their produce as you pass by. You try to avoid them by stepping onto the road only to be narrowly missed by the oncoming rickshaws or the motorcyclists who are doing the ride of shame home, still smelling of alcohol and almost getting you with a little bit of their vomit as they ride the wrong way up a one way street.

Almost avoided the poo. Almost. 

But the most devious of traps is the good old turd. It's easily camouflaged and is small and discreet which makes it almost impossible to spot until the very last second, at which point you let out a scream of horror as you try your best to defy gravity with a little jig mid-air. But alas, your foot has to touch the ground eventually. The worst part is that here in India, you can never be sure if it's a dog or a human turd…

Lucky for me, that's not my footprint in the photo. Nope, I learnt my lesson a few weeks ago when Josiah stepped into a HUMONGOUS GIANTIC ASTRONOMICAL size turd. In case you missed that: it was massive. And human. And surprisingly slimy - so much so that it made Joe skid a good 30 cm and nearly fall back into it. Thankfully he didn't because the smell coming off his shoe was so potent the crowd of people in the market parted as we walked through in search of water to wash his feet. I felt like Moses parting the Red Sea. In the end Josiah decided to just throw the shoes away and buy another pair.  


Ever since then I don't bother looking at the traffic when I walk around Mumbai. My eyes are firmly fixed on the path ahead of me watching out for poo. No doubt whoever stepped into that turd will be doing the same.