Welcome to India and Being Discovered by Bollywood


I spent a shivering night in Kuala Lumper’s airport. Laying on the benches, in a light cotton dress. I finally got so cold, I took out a cloth shopping bag from my backpack and put my feet in it, I made tent out of my journal and put it over my eyes. 

When I made it to India immigration the officer looked over my passport and my visa. 
“Where’s your return flight?” 
“I didn’t book one.” 
Well this was a problem. They lead me to the immigration office where a man with a big belly and a kaki uniform looked over my passport. 
“Who comes to a country with no ticket home and no plans?” he reprimanded.  
Clearly he didn’t understand spontaneity! He said “When you come to a country you have to have a plan when you will go home!” I said that was interesting because that wasn’t the case in Thailand, Laos, Vietnam, Cambodia, Europe, Canada, or Indonesia, and if it had said that anywhere on the visa form I would have gotten a return ticket. I felt I had a pretty valid case and my well-used passport to back me up! He made me wait for an hour and then came over and said, “Ok, you can go through.” 

Welcome to India

A few hours later, Annika rounded the corner at baggage claim—an hour after that her backpack did too! She was finishing up a month and a half trip in Sri Lanka. We picked up right where we’d left off a few years ago in Ireland. We walked out into the sweaty swarm of passengers and taxi drivers. 



Our guest house is in the heart of Chennai. Broad Lands, true to the reviews, it’s like stepping back in time a 100 years. On arrival our guesthouse staff—a group of four old India men—gave us such a warm welcome and showed us into our rustic room. It had white plaster walls, large arched windows, and shutter doors. The beds were so hard they about knocked the wind out of us when we plopped down! We sat on a balcony and drank sticky sweet marsala chai and white cake wrapped in news paper. We shared travel stories and got updated on each other lives since we’d last kicked it. 


I’ve never traveled in a place that has quite as bad of a reputation build up about sexual assault. Our first exploration out of the guesthouse and into the city, I think we were both leery, not knowing what to expect.
The streets were clogged with tuktuks, cows, colorful buses, and so much trash. Usually the sidewalks were too obstructed to walk on, we’d just walk on the street. There was a constant shriek of horns honks. We were the only westerns out on the streets, people stared. We didn’t make eye contact with men because we felt uncomfortable attracting even more attention. One man with glossy eyes walked up to us and touched our hair and as we quickly dodged him, he tried to grab my arm. A train passed by on an over pass above us. Women in saris created a colorful blur, people waved at us from the windows. Several cows were wandering about in the trash-filled dirt lot below the overpass. In it all there I felt such a strong sense of awe. 


That evening, the manager of our guesthouse said he knew someone who was making a movie and they needed westerners for extras. Would we want to be in it? We were confused and intrigued. We agreed and he said they would pick us—and three others from the guesthouse next-door—up at 4pm tomorrow. We would get dinner and 1000 rupee each. Wow, our first 24 hours and we’ve already launched our Bollywood careers! 

Breakfast

Unwrapping some marsala dosa

The next afternoon three men who work with a casting company came to our guesthouse. We walked with them next-door where there were three others clearly cast as “caucasian extras”.
Anni and I tried start to be friendly, asking where they were from. One of the men just smiled and nodded, “Russia.” Oh ok, I asked if they were all traveling together? The girl didn’t look up from her phone. The man nodded again, “Russia.” That was about the extent of our conversation for the next 8 hours we spent together… 

We drove for 2.5 hours southeast to a new luxury apartment complex where CEOs of Honda, Toyota, and other companies live when working in India. I asked what the movie was about and the casting director, Walter, said “It’s an action movie, you know, the hero rides motorbikes, climbs mountains…” Oh…Ok nice…
We piled out of the car and there were teams of people setting up lights and equipment. I laughed, thinking that I hadn’t even showered or put on makeup, I was sweaty and wearing whatever I thought to put on this morning. There was a table with chai and snacks. Our casting guys fixed us a little plate of pineapple pudding and pinto beans. They explained to us that there are a ton of Russians living in India and they just pick up odd jobs, like being extras in movies. They said Russians were really hard to work with and kept giving them the stank-eye!
Pinto beans and pineapple pudding


From what little more info we gathered, the three Russians were living here for over a year now, but they didn’t speak an English! Annika and I were so confused about how they were able to get around! 
There was a lot of waiting around the set, which was suppose to be an international collage campus. At one point a man came over and was talking with Walter and looking us up and down and shaking his head. They he said “Ok, costumes!”. He lead Annika, the Russian girl and me to a trailer and pulled out three identical poofy, black winter coats. Oh, its winter time at this collage? When we got back to the set a large group of Chinese men, who lived in the luxury apartments, had gathered around the film crew. They all wanted to take pictures with us. So there we were, sweating balls in our huge black coats taking pictures with Chinese men, on a movie set, in the middle of who-knows-where southern India.
Our Russian frenemy...she was actually sweet in her own way 

Holding all our black coats while the girls pee 

Right before we finally started our scene, the director looked us up and down. Hmmm the poofy jackets just weren’t working (Thank God)! 
Our roles was to walk through the scene with books, laughing and chatting—which is what Annika and I were doing the entire time on the sidelines. So when they called action and told us to walk, we just carried on our same conversation! In between takes, Walter showed us pictures of his Christmas tree and his family, we talked with other actors and the assistant director. The assistant director came over several times and said what a super job we were doing, really consistent, good work! 
Making Walter be goofy with us!

Putting our props on our heads. We got mad acting skills.

Finally around midnight, they said we can go take dinner. We walked off set and into a parking garage where a small buffet was set up. Walter filled our plates with chipatti, dosa, marsala, chutney, and curd rice. It wasn’t until that moment that I realized, oh right we’re eating with our hands. Everyone eats with their hands—their right hand, because their left hand is for washing, because there is no toilet paper! Walter showed us how to eat rice with your hand by creating a shovel with three fingers. We sat in a semi-circle of plastic chairs—three emotionally unavailable Russians, a handful of Indian crewmen, Anni and I—in a cement parking garage at midnight, eating cold dosas with smiles on our faces. How did we ever find ourselves here?! 
Our movie! "Dev" about a man who rides motorbikes, climbs mountains, and likes photography.

We had to go back and film one more scene. The assistant director told me to take off my little black purse/backpack and get into the shot, quick! I looked around for a place to stash it, he grabbed it and put it on. He wore it for the next half hour, till we were finished shooting! 
The director called scene. Walter and the guys rounded up their crew of white people, and just like that we were speeding back home—red lights and stop signs are a suggestion here. 

They dropped us back at Broad Lands at 2am, thanked us, and paid us 2000 rupee (which covered our room for two nights, bus tickets to our next town, and all our meals for the next day!). 

We unlocked our beautiful little abode, exhausted. The power was out and without our fan going it was bloody stuffy and hot! We crawled onto our extra firm mattresses and just as I was about slip into sleep, the power came on, fan revved up. 

I think being on this movie set helped both of us feel more comfortable in India. We were able to have great experiences with Indian men who were fun and kind. I hate how shallow those words sound but stereotypes are a cruel beast. 

That night, I fell asleep under a cool breeze, marveling at what an adventure we’d stumbled upon.



























Comments

  1. What a great adventure Gabby! I hope you write a book! Take care, Ann Marie & Bert

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