Bombay,
I love cool clean marble floors on my feet,
balconies over busy streets,
auto rickshaws and elephants,
the many colors of the saris in the alleys,
and garbage on the seashore,
bags made of newspaper,
men holding hands,
3 dollar meals
and lemon water at the end to wash.

I hate your endless car horns
and the way your men stare,
the bars on the balconies,
the glass shards glued to the tops of walls
the rates at hotels for non-resident indians,
the architecture of crumbling, molding cement buildings everywhere.
Your oceanside does not smell like the sea.

Monsoon is a lovely disaster that happens every year during our summer months. People in India are not bothered by their stalled cars and drenched persons. However, it is in this season that most fall sick.

We were on alert with bottled water, grapefruit seed extract and other precautions.

Watching for hours from the balcony made us feel safe but also showed us the pluck of the people in this city.

We met with Kirit, Mala, Bharat, Pratiba, Usha, Kusho, Mahandra, Mina, Dimple, and Janke along with close family mom, dad, Jayshree, kushant and Sujaya at Greens, a chinese indian restaurant in the neighborhood. I kept my grapefruit seed extract close and ate selectively.

Family in Mumbai live in Santacruz, a suburb of Bombay. It is hard to stay away from the balcony in the apartment. So many people and vehicles of all kind in the street. It is monsoon season and everyone has umbrellas but not the ordinary kind that we have. They have all kinds of umbrellas, rainbow, flowers, colors and designs.

One hour before we were to leave for India, we received a notice from the immigration office in Boston with bad news. More delays in our adoption process because of confusion over my Chicago moniker, Elyssia. Manager of agency's Ethiopia program soothes my hysteric fears saying, "Lets not go there." So I decide to go to India instead. Husband is battered by demonstrations.

The cab we called never came and so we called another cab. This one arrived and to get to Logan airport had to drive us through Chelsea. If you live or read about Boston you know why. The big dig.

We fly into Zurich, breeze through customs and take the train to Dornach, home of the Goetheanum. Jet lagged. Hot. Tripping on sleep deprivation we walk up the hill to the Goetheanum's gasthaus and try to sleep amid cow bells and sweltering air. Strange dreams of large spaces.

We attended a wonderful Eurythmy performance but missed the second half due to a misunderstanding (no German comprehension whatsoever) and ate at the Kaffe.

Tour of the Goetheanum was excellent and we hiked to the hermitage next door where there was a ruined castle and caves which some say were inhabited by Parcival and druids.

The last night in Zurich was spent at the Park Inn where the circlular shower is located next to the bed. Nice views (and photos) of my spouse showering while I sat at the desk. Unfortunately those photographs, along with all of the shots I took in Zurich were lost to a wandering finger over the reformatting button on our digital camera.

Swiss Air is on my A-list. The flight to Bombay was quite smooth and almost enjoyable. Service and food were excellent. Customs in "Mumbai" was also quick and we walked out of the airport in record time. We exited the terminal and entered into a sea of people behind a cord and the thick living air of the city of Bombay. I had no idea what I was in for.