We had another overwhelming experience today. We visited the Mumbai slum, Dharavi. It was quite unlike any slum I have seen before. I was expecting something similar to the Nairobi slum, Kibera, but it was very different. They are both urban slums, but Dharavi is much more industrialized. The streets are made of old patio stones and are really nice when I compare it to what I saw in Kibera. Their houses are single rooms, but often people will have one or two room stacked on top. The buildings are made of concrete and just their roofs are metal, unlike the metal shacks that Kiberans live in.
There are many industries flourishing in Dharavi; leather, soap, denim jeans, fabric dyeing, textiles, luggage, baking, pottery, etc. One of the first workshops we stopped in to see had men attaching pieces of metal frames together, the same metal frames that give rolling suitcases their shape. We also saw denim patterns being cut out and the basic stitches sewn in to be later sold to companies who will put their custom designs on them before selling them to the public. It was quite fascinating to see all this going on in a slum. I was actually looking at where the "Made in India" clothing actually comes from. I always imagined these materials coming from large factories, but they were being processed in small workshops in the middle of an urban slum.
To get to the first workshop, we walked through an alleyway full of junk. It was the scrapyard of Dharavi. People collected scrap plastic, cardboard, metal, and a slew of other things to bring to this area and sell to someone else who recycled these materials in some way. We saw mostly piles upon piles of bags filled with junk. I don't know what they turnover rate of this junk is, but it didn't seem to be moving fast.
As we walked through the streets of the industrial area, there was quite a bit of space between buildings. This is relative to the two-foot wide alleys that we snaked through once we reached more residential parts of the slum. We had to duck from several open electrical wires over our heads, while at the same time dodging the milky-grey puddles on the floor beneath our feet. Apartments seemed to be everywhere; we turned a corner and there would be a doorway with a sheet covering the entrance and we could hear people inside. A lot of times these curtains were open so we could see inside. It would be one room with either tiled, linoleum, or concrete floors filled with all the possible appliances you could find in a house, with the exception of a washing machine. They do all their laundry by hand. This being India, all appliances and electronics are dirt cheap, so everybody has them all. The residences were surprisingly nice, though still small. Still, a far cry from the beds crowded into a small shack like the ones I'm used to seeing in Mlolongo.
One of the last areas for us to visit was the market. At one particular corner, people gather to sell produce. Then down the way, there is the fish market. Dharavi also has a few schools, as well as churches, mosques, and temples. Even with the wide variety of religions in close proximity to one another, there isn't any conflict within the slum. Our guide, a resident of the area, said the former First Lady spent a lot of time in Dharavi working at building it up as a community instead of allowing religion to divide it up, and it worked really well.
While Dharavi is a very condensed slum (1.2 million people in 1.7 square kms), it wasn't very crowded this morning. India was playing Pakistan in the semi-final of the Cricket World Cup, so many people took a full or half day of just to watch the game at 2:30. Even the stock exchange closed at 1pm.
We watched the game of course. We even bought India jerseys for 100 rupees a piece (~$2.25) to wear during the game. I read up on the rules of cricket before arriving in Mumbai, knowing very well I would be watching a game or two. I was able to follow the game, and after seven and half hours of play, India beat Pakistan and moves on to the final versus Sri Lanka on Saturday. The streets turned into a party tonight. On our way home from Dean's friend's house, where we watched the game, we saw people dancing and playing music in the streets and setting off fireworks.