Mumbai - the Dharavi slum

This "phlog" about our tour of the Dharavi slum warrants a short introduction (copied from the Internet). 

The Ethics of Slum Tours

• By Deepa Krishnan (owner of tour company, Mubai Magic)

A newspaper reporter interviewed me recently. One of the questions she asked me was about the poverty in Mumbai, and our tours to Dharavi, Asia's largest slum.

"Is this not voyeurism?", she asked me. "The affluent stare at the poor, and you make money off it?"

The answer to this question is complex, so I thought I'd list my views here and invite comments from you, my readers.

First of all, there is no avoiding the poor in Mumbai. The slums are all-pervasive. In many parts of the city, there are shanties by the roadside. At Colaba, at Horniman Circle, there are the homeless - they are dirty and unkempt, living on the pavements. On a recent drive through Fort, a semi-naked man walked past us, his body caked with dirt, his clothing in tatters. At traffic signals, tourists are accosted by beggars with shocking sores and disfigurements.

For overseas visitors, the image this creates is of two bewilderingly different Mumbais - one that is rich and glitzy and safe in their five-star cocoon, and the other that lives a hellish life on the streets, begging, cringing, with no self-respect whatsoever.

There is no room for an understanding of a third Mumbai - the Mumbai of the hard-working poor. The Mumbai of the aspiring migrant, with his fierce drive for survival, for self-improvement. The Mumbai of small enterprise. The Mumbai of cottage industries. The Mumbai of poor yet strong women, running entire households on the strength of their income from making papads. Every morning, these women put food on the table, braid their daughters' hair, and send them to schools. They have hope for the future, you see? This is the Mumbai of dreams, which I want my guests to see.

Dharavi is one place where this third Mumbai is visible. In the papad units, in the little tailoring shops, in Kumbharwada, in the kirana grain stores, everywhere Dharavi displays a spirt that is fierce and energetic. Every time my overseas visitors go into Dharavi, they come back with a first-hand insight into this third Mumbai.

One of my American guests summed this up very well, after a 2 hour visit to Dharavi. I've quoted her before, and I quote her again: To me, this place dispels the myth that poverty is due to laziness — that the poor somehow deserve their lot in life because they are lazy or stupid or otherwise lacking in some important character trait that the successful possess. Dharavi is a resounding rebuttal to that belief.

Seeing Dharavi is not even remotely voyeuristic. Dharavi stands up and demands respect, and guess what - it gets it.

If you want to see the responses to the blog essay or read more about Mumbai Magic Tours, go to  http://mumbai-magic.blogspot.com/2007/09/ethics-of-what-i-do.html

Tom and I saw all three facets of Mumbai.  The Taj Hotel where uniformed and turbaned valets were helping guests out of their luxury cars.  A filthy spot in front of a money exchange where a too-young and horribly emaciated mother pushed her baby at me, begged for money, then retreated to the curb to nurse the infant. And then there was Dharavi . . .

The essay above mentions the women who make papads—a round tortilla-like product, which I’m sorry to say, we did not have the chance to taste.  We did, however, see the women working the dough and setting them out in the sun to dry. We were asked not to take photographs of these ladies.  It was the only off-limits rule imposed and we all honored that request.  I did, however, manage to take a photo of some papads that had been spread out to dry on an upside-down, oversized basket. 

Here is the Dharavi we saw . .

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