Browns go to Bollywood

Bollywood is bigger than Hollywood churning out 900 productions a year. For some reason that we haven't fathomed yet, associating with cacasians seem to carry some sort of status for the Indian people - almost like reverse racism - and as a result often feature as extras in the movies. Beth being the vain wannabe that she is was determined to be asked. Parading around Mumbai in a tshirt revealing her...gulp...shoulders and dramatically flicking her hair in an attempt to look glamorous, her ministrations had to date been fruitless. Abandoning hope she stopped forcing Steve to don a cap to disguise the bald patch she had accidently shaved off in her last attempt at giving him a croppy top (more like a toppy crop) and adopted her standard baggy tunic look again. Then we were approached by a 'foreign model coordinator' who asked us to be an extra in 'Chocolate' (yes, that is the name of the Bollywood movie) and would pay us 500 rupees each (only 6GBP but in Mumbai that is one night's accomodation!). We didn't mention that we would have paid them to visit the set and appear as an extra but we groomed ourselves within an inch of our life the night before and held in our curry engorged stomachs as best as we could.

Waiting for the bus to collect us we got chatting to a Scotish couple of extras, Charina and Neil, and compared srategies to be upgraded to speaking parts!

Three hours later after driving through some of Mumbai's slums that are amongst the largest in Asia and thoroughly seeing the outlaying areas, we pulled into a dusty entrance guarded by three sleepy looking security officials. Bollywood was not what we had imagined. We were greeted with tumbling down buildings badly in need of a paint and we couldn't imagine the likes of Harrison Ford putting up with the conditions in Hollywood! The 30 men and 10 women extras were whisked away for make-up. Bright pink was applied to Beth's eyelids then rimmed with thick black and completed with bright red blusher and lipstick. Satisfied she looked like a transvestite they hauled out the costumes. Not the glamourous dress Beth had been led to believe but to her horror a white bra top with an orange ribbon, a tiny white and orange ra-ra skirt so short that orange cycling shorts had to be worn underneath and a white and orange hat. The wardrobe department brought out a selection of the oldest dirtiest looking black court shoes we had ever seen and the group of girls, already reeling in shock from the cheerleader/easyjet uniform we were being forced to wear had to squeeze their feet into shoes three sizes too small. One of the Indian wardrobe men looked at Beth's feet and stated 'big, big feet'. How rude. Beth was given men's brogues to wear with the ensemble. Not a good look and even Kate Moss couldn't have carried off the disasterous costume. The girls were paraded outside much to the enjoyment of the Indian workers on site and we realised that perhaps we were contributing to the stereo type of western women. Fortunately at that stage the boys came back out donned from head to foot in navy polyester suits and Beth hid behind Steve as the girls were briefed on their roles. We were to be waitresses in a bar somewhere in Europe. Of course. Obviously all waitresses in Euorpean bars wear cheerleader uniforms in the corporate colours of Easyjet. Stupid us. The boys were supposed to drink beer whilst watching the Bollywood dancers. The feminist movement would have had a field day.

We were just so excited to be part of the Bollywood action though that we waited in the holding room for our 15 minutes of fame...or shame. We waited and waited. Morning passed and moved into lunch time and game after game of cards kept us sane through the afternoon. At 8pm - 12 hours after we had been picked up and 10 hours after make-up and costume changes we were called on. It was worth the wait to see the beautiful Bollywood star in a diamond encrusted dress (much more covered up than the western girls it has to be said) shimmering her way through dance routines with handsome Indian men in DJs. Steve's moment of glory arrived when the male extras got to dance around the actress with glasses of fake beer. The waitresses were not even featured. Beth and Charina by this time were relieved - they just wanted to get out of the stupid costume and cover themselves up from the army of lecherous production staff. Honestly, cut from the film before even getting in front of the camera.

We got back to Colaba at midnight and went to Leopold's club for well deserved beers with Charina and Neil. After four beers each we convinced ourselves that we were superstars anyway and until the hangovers kicked in we remained Bollywood legends in our own lifetime!