It took some shock aversion therapy in order for me to do it. If we were going to Mumbai's biggest slum, then I wanted a nice brunch out the deal. I needed Theo Brahmon's amazing cuisine as a reward for going where we probably shouldn't have gone.
Emily said she saw how Mumbai's upper tier lives and and how the middle lives – she wanted to see how the bottom lives. We had seen a few small slums, but we were still shocked there wasn't more. Before coming to Mumbai, we had pictured huge slums all over the place.
Instead, we found mostly huge towers and nice cars. Slums have been the exception and it has felt almost as if someone has been hiding the "real Mumbai" from us. We wanted to see some slum in "Slumdog Millionaire" – but we've been seeing far more millionaire.
So Emily wrote down Dharavi, the name of the largest slum in Mumbai and asked a taxi driver to take us. We got a lot for our 200 rupee taxi fare as the very nice driver took us almost a half hour away, through parts of Mumbai we had never seen. Along the drive we saw industrial zones, lower class neighborhoods and eventually, some real-deal slums.
We even saw a few buffalo pulling carts and some cows on the street – exactly the kind of thing we expected of India but have rarely seen.
Oddly, when we finally made it to Dharavi, the area was pretty nice. There was a neighborhood with shops, schools and nice sidewalks. There were mostly low-end apartments – but real apartment buildings of good structure. We felt sure we were in the wrong place, but everyone kept telling us we were in Dharavi.
I had been nervous about going to the major slum. We could be seen positively as people who want to see how people really live. We could be seen as targets – white wallet walking. Or we might be resented for minimizing people's real and actual hardships into a stop on the tourist trail. I felt apprehensive.
Then a bird shit on me. Not too horribly, but nonetheless. I remembered this is some kind of good omen or good luck. But mostly I wanted wet wipes and was glad I had anti-bacterial spray in my pocket. Never leave the hotel without it.
With that and not finding our slum within several blocks of walking, Emily decided that she had seen what she wanted on the taxi ride. She had seen the slums and the poorer neighborhoods. She saw the piece of Mumbai that she was sure was missing. We could go. So, we found a nice taxi at the corner and started back for our hotel.
As we rounded a corner about a quarter mile away, there was the giant slum. The taxi driver pointed it out as if we hadn't noticed. It was massive. It was also fenced in and and had a few entrance gates with police guards. One entrance was labeled "Checkpoint Chowy".
According to what we read, the slum now has electricity, running water and sewage services. Many people rent out their or slum property while others pay rent to live there. These slums have become legitimate places to live. Apparently, the government has even provided police dedicated to them.
So we got our drive-by tour of the slum, which I feel was the best choice of slum tour and Emily was satisfied.
We came, we had a drive-by slumming, we left.
Once the taxi turned, the neighborhood changed dramatically. We were back to nice sidewalks and tree-lined streets. Sure, they weren't some of Mumbai's more impressive addresses, but they were also decent neighborhoods. You wouldn't imagine them to be feet from a slum of one million people.
Of course, slums like this are on the decline. We had to go looking for it. Blocks away from the slum, you could see the future closing in on it – large towers being built. Mumbai seems determined to wipe away the slums with a newer, upscale Mumbai. I wondered how long those million people have in their slum.
It was mid-afternoon. What does one do with their day after brunch and a slum? We figured dinner and a movie. After a quick clean-up at the hotel, we went to see a Bollywood movie – romantic comedy Emily picked.
The mall was bustling on a Saturday night. We walked around and got a pre-movie snacks. Emily literally stood at the counter of this very nice snack shop and had pani-pouri – hollow, crisp, ball-shaped flour shells stuffed with seasoned potatoes and vegetables then filled with seasoned water. They're her favorites and are traditionally served one by one. So she stood there, in a candy and snack shop in a very elegant mall, taking shots of pani-pouri.
The movie was in Hindi, but the plot took no effort to follow and they mix in a few words and phrases of English here and there which dropped just enough detail to keep us from being confused. The plot was exceedingly predictable. But with colorful attire, exaggerated comedic acting and song and classic Bollywood song and dance numbers, it was cute. The theater was extremely comfortable and this theater included name-brand waiter service. You could buy from Baskin-Robbins and Coffee Day Coffee (a local chain).
Afterward, we got a late dinner at one of the nicest restaurants on our block. At 10:00 at night, people were still walking in for dinner. When we left, people were still walking in for dinner. This very nice, somewhat elegant Indian restaurant restaurant is open until 12:30am. Apparently, there's a good reason for it. The upper-middle class dines well and late – like Europeans.
At the end of the day, we went back to the comfortable world we know. In our brief encounter with the bottom of Mumbai's socio-economic chain, we were reminded of how good we have it, how quickly Mumbai is changing and that there aren't easy answers to a place like India. It's a hard break to go from brunch to slum to high-class movie theater and not ponder.
We can't just retreat as if we saw nothing. And at the same time, what do we do except just accept that it's all part of the deal? The dichotomies, the things we have trouble reconciling – they just are. And we, as visitors can just try to have some kind of positive impact with our rupees, our leftovers and our actions.
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