Who Are the Slumdwellers?

My immersion into the subcontinent progresses day-by-day. Adjustment for most things occurs quickly; however, there are a few that I have yet to fully realize. Fortunately, a reflection on my Dhavari slum tour captures these hard-to-swallow distinctions more completely than my other attempts.
So, here goes:

Dhavari is widely recognized as one of the largest and most densely populated slums in the world. As such, it comprises a significant chunk of this city's staggering population. Nevertheless, something about “touring” a slum did not sit well with me. I feared feeling like my presence and observations exploited their situation- like I was descending from my ivory tower to monitor the beastly conditions with an “I pity you” look wrenched on my face. Fortunately, the company that took us through Dhavari grew out of the slum itself. The tours resulted from a growing desire to explain that life inside a slum has structure and that residents of slums do work hard. In fact, after the organizers informed residents of the purpose of the tours, the slum residents consented to the program, and welcomed probing foreigners.

We started in the commercial area of the slum. While there were many small businesses located inside the slum, the primary type of work involved recycling plastics and metals. Regardless of your feelings on the issues, without safety regulations or unions (sorry dad), no workers' compensation scheme, few public interest advocates, and a workforce drawn from migrant workers in the impoverished rural areas of India, working conditions were unfathomable. Enclosed under a ceiling of corrugated roofing less than ten feet high, I frequently saw teenage boys with no shoes, no hand protection, no lung protection, and no facial protection doing a variety of hazardous tasks, including stirring molten aluminum; crushing, melting, and reforming plastic; and recycling paint cans by burning off existing paint from the inside of the can. Naturally, noxious fumes of burning chemicals lingered densely before the already stale air trapped inside the corrugated enclosure absorbed them. I emerged from the commercial area with a headache, burning throat, and disbelief that someone could work dawn to dusk six days a week in those conditions. Of course, many don't survive work in these conditions and those with severed limbs, deformities, and crippling injuries testify to the ever-present dangers and find themselves trapped in the slums in great numbers.

Leaving behind the poisonous air of the commercial area, we merely exchanged odors with the unforgettable stench of open sewage in the residential area. The slum grew taller as we delved deeper. Now, four stories of slum houses towered above us at all times. The only natural light present was the sliver of open space immediately above our walkway. Even in broad daylight, the walkways penetrating the interior of the slum are dimly lit, leaving your surroundings full of shadows. The overwhelming part is realizing how many people live here. Everywhere we roamed, faces of children and mothers poked out of the open doorways of their homes, intrigued by our presence. The presence of families and communities inside the slum brought encouragement. The people inside seemed relatively happy and content. However, the positive lapse proved short-lived, when we emerged near a public bathroom connected to the open sewage line. Here were a dozen filthy, but functional, toilet stalls (racks with holes open to the sewage drain). Nevertheless, these twelve stalls served 1,500 people.

While these are the operating conditions of the slum, it is the people who made a lasting impression on me. Many migrant workers choose to temporarily trade poverty in quaint, rural homes for the opportunity to save a little to take home from unskilled labor in the city. Unfortunately, many of these temporary workers end up staying for many years, sleeping in the factories and shipping home monthly portions of their pay. As far as religion goes, the slum used to be a blend of Hindus and Muslims, but after the riots of the 1990s, in which death-toll estimates reached four digits, the slum divided into a Hindu sector and a Muslim Sector. The divide still exists, but both groups try to soften the impact areas by compelling both groups to celebrate all holidays of both religions... I'll get back to you when I figure out if that ever goes well.