The Squadron
"The best sandwich bar in Mumbai", he said closing the door. He muttered some instructions to the driver and we were on our way along the backstreets of Mumbai. Out of the business come residential area through a slum. Piles of filth dot the sidewalk just out of reach of the stalls selling tea, food and other odd and ends. A pool of oil in front of a motor cycle repair stall. Helmets decorate a stall selling motor cycle assessories. Goats plunder the piles of filth seeking something to eat. On the left, a river and on the opposite bank shacks, two or three stories high skirt the edge of the bank. Sewer pipes reach out from the shacks and terminate in mid air dumping their load into the river below.
Over a bridge and into an area where the stores are decorated quite tastefully. Through narrow winding roads and finally under a freeway. The vehicle comes to a stop and I slide open the door. I avoid a pile of dirt and mud the monsoon has not helped much. I follow as I am led through the stalls and onto a sidewalk in front of a beautifully decorated store and next to it the sandwich store.
The sidewalk is filled with people eating sandwiches, they are huge the size of a plate. The stall is a hive of activity as workers shovel shredded lattice, tomato, cheese and various flavourings on a huge slice of bread. A second slice is placed on top and into the toaster. A minute later it is whipped onto a cutting board and handed over to the customer.
A couple of minutes later I am handed a one of these treats. It is then that I realise why the people on the sidewalks looked so rushed while eating their sandwiches. A squadron of flies start their descent on my sandwich. I flap them away with a wave of my hand. It's a race to the end, will they recover before I have a chance to take my first bite? The race is on.
I dip the sandwich in the chutney, an ever present accompaniment to any meal in Mumbai, and quickly take a bite. It is tricky, in my left hand the paper plate with the sandwich is being waved about to discourage the tenacious squadron of flies and in my right hand the half I have just managed to take a bite out off, now being waved about in an effort to prevent a landing.
I notice that the sandwich and its filling are in great danger of being separated. Stopping my waving motion only long enough to take a quick bite. I continue in this manner for a bit and all the while look around me to see how others are doing. The flies must know I am a foreigner! The locals seem to be less mobile and active then me and the flies do not seem to bother them. Sure they eat faster than usual but none of the waving and lapping that accompanies my attempt at eating.
The squadron becomes more daring and one almost lands on my tasty sandwich. I quickly flap it over to discourage the little blighter and steal another bite. A few more and I am done. Satisfied that I have managed to eat a rather tasty sandwich while avoiding the squadron of flies, I wipe my hands and look around.
Tomatoes, lattice and cheese with a dash of spice, lay strewn across the floor. What was once the filling in my tasty sandwich had now become part of the sidewalk and the squadron had settled on the fare, a victory!
Over a bridge and into an area where the stores are decorated quite tastefully. Through narrow winding roads and finally under a freeway. The vehicle comes to a stop and I slide open the door. I avoid a pile of dirt and mud the monsoon has not helped much. I follow as I am led through the stalls and onto a sidewalk in front of a beautifully decorated store and next to it the sandwich store.
The sidewalk is filled with people eating sandwiches, they are huge the size of a plate. The stall is a hive of activity as workers shovel shredded lattice, tomato, cheese and various flavourings on a huge slice of bread. A second slice is placed on top and into the toaster. A minute later it is whipped onto a cutting board and handed over to the customer.
A couple of minutes later I am handed a one of these treats. It is then that I realise why the people on the sidewalks looked so rushed while eating their sandwiches. A squadron of flies start their descent on my sandwich. I flap them away with a wave of my hand. It's a race to the end, will they recover before I have a chance to take my first bite? The race is on.
I dip the sandwich in the chutney, an ever present accompaniment to any meal in Mumbai, and quickly take a bite. It is tricky, in my left hand the paper plate with the sandwich is being waved about to discourage the tenacious squadron of flies and in my right hand the half I have just managed to take a bite out off, now being waved about in an effort to prevent a landing.
I notice that the sandwich and its filling are in great danger of being separated. Stopping my waving motion only long enough to take a quick bite. I continue in this manner for a bit and all the while look around me to see how others are doing. The flies must know I am a foreigner! The locals seem to be less mobile and active then me and the flies do not seem to bother them. Sure they eat faster than usual but none of the waving and lapping that accompanies my attempt at eating.
The squadron becomes more daring and one almost lands on my tasty sandwich. I quickly flap it over to discourage the little blighter and steal another bite. A few more and I am done. Satisfied that I have managed to eat a rather tasty sandwich while avoiding the squadron of flies, I wipe my hands and look around.
Tomatoes, lattice and cheese with a dash of spice, lay strewn across the floor. What was once the filling in my tasty sandwich had now become part of the sidewalk and the squadron had settled on the fare, a victory!
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