Slum Tourism: Dharavi
Slum tourism. A uniquely unsettling combination of words that represents a rapidly expanding tourism economy in Mumbai.
Like many people, we found the idea of taking a slum tour problematic–particularly when the cost of the tour far exceeds the average weekly salary of the residents in said slum. We went back and forth on the idea for a couple of weeks, before finally letting our curiosity outweigh our concerns and booking a tour.
Dharavi, made popular as the setting for the movie Slumdog Millionaire, is the second largest slum in Asia and the third largest in the world. Covering an area of just 1 square mile, it's home to upwards of a million people, making it one of the most densely populated places on earth. Founded during the British colonial period, Dharavi has been welcoming migrants from all over India for the last 100 years.
And as migrants continue to flock to Dharavi, the informal economy that the slum is built on continues to grow. Estimates put the annual turnover of goods produced in Dharavi anywhere between USD $500M and $1B. Recycling, leather, textile manufacturing, and pottery are some of the biggest industries in the slum, which boasts an estimated 5000 businesses and 15,000 single-room factories. Predictably, the per capita income of the residents of Dharavi is very low, although the exact numbers are very difficult to come by.
After researching the myriad options available for Dharavi tours, we chose to go with Inside Mumbai: a small company started by a local resident of Dharavi, Mohammad Sadique, whose family has been living in the slum for over 50 years.
As the tour began, we were given a few basic ground rules:
- No photos.
- Be conscious of your facial expressions.
- Don't give anyone money.
- When people say "hi" to you, smile and say "hi" back.
Simple enough rules, but also poignant reminders of the impact that this type of tourism could have on a place like Dharavi if not done well.
We began our tour by walking through one of the many recycling facilities in Dharavi. Despite it being a Sunday, the plant was in full swing. Recycling alone is estimated to employ 250,000 people in Dharavi, including collectors who sweep the streets of Mumbai for discarded plastic (there's no shortage of that), men who sort it by quality, machine operators who crush the raw materials, and women who painstakingly sort the tiny pellets of crushed plastic by colour. And despite the value that this service provides to the city of Mumbai, the entire industry exists without government support (although the government does collect taxes from it).
We continued our tour with a look inside one of the many textile manufacturing plants within Dharavi. Climbing up a rickety, tarp-covered staircase, we emerged into a loft-type room with three industrial, computer-operated sewing machines and around 10 people diligently overseeing the production of what looked to be cotton dresses. This part of the tour both confirmed and repudiated my preconceptions of a sweatshop. Was it hot? Yes. Did the building seem unsafe? Definitely. Were the workers paid a fair wage? Probably not, though I don't know for sure. But did anyone seem unhappy to be at work? Not at all. In fact, everyone seemed to take a lot of pride and ownership over their work and they were happy to show it off to us for the few minutes that we were there.
As we ventured into the inner heart of Dharavi–an intricate maze of tiny, dark passageways, only about 2 feet across and not quite tall enough to stand up straight–we started to see the human side of this industrial powerhouse. On either side of the tiny lanes, irrigation ditches let water flow out of the doorways of the many stacked houses flanking the paths. Most homes we passed were illuminated by a single hanging bulb, and many had TVs adorning the front rooms. In comparison to the blinding light and constant traffic noise of greater Mumbai, the centre of Dharavi was actually quite serene: with just the sounds of running water and the smell of frying onion and fresh coriander.
As unique an experience as it was to see this part of Dharavi, it was difficult not to feel like an intruder as we walked within inches of people going about their daily lives–brushing their teeth, showering, washing their clothes and cooking their lunch. While nobody seemed particularly bothered by our presence (in fact, many of the kids popped their heads out of their doors to say hello), it felt more like voyeurism than tourism.
As our tour drew to a close, we climbed up onto an elevated walkway to snap a few photos and talk about our experience. How did Dharavi compare to our expectations? What were the most surprising aspects of the tour? How did the tour make you feel? I still don't have an answer to the last one, but here are a few things that surprised me about Dharavi:
- Almost the entire slum is connected to the electrical grid. Yes, there are still people stealing electricity, but the majority of homes and businesses have (and pay for) legitimate connections.
- The majority of households have access to potable running water.
- The slum has hundreds of schools, a university, and an overall literacy rate of almost 70%.
- Not a single person asked us for money the entire time we were there. In fact, not a single person even looked like they needed our money. I was expecting to see abject poverty, but instead we saw tremendous industry.
There were also a couple of things that were exactly as expected:
- It's dirty. Without an adequate number of toilets for the inhabitants of the slum, many open places (like the river for which Dharavi gets its name) have become de facto bathrooms.
- It's very, very cramped.
Following the tour, I did some research into what actually makes a slum and slum. Yes, adequate sanitation is a big factor and Dharavi might not have that. But running water, reliable electricity, access to education and taxable businesses? I didn't read about any of those being benchmarks of a slum. By those vectors alone, the name doesn't seem to fit the picture.
Over the last few years, numerous proposals have been drawn up to redevelop Dharavi (which sits on some of the most coveted real estate in all of Mumbai), but local residents have repeatedly organized to shut down these attempts. Despite the promise of more space, access to clean toilets, and (arguably) higher standards of living, residents of Dharavi largely want to keep the community exactly as it is; because community is the defining characteristic of this place. People from different religions, castes, ethnicities, and socio-economic positions all reside (mostly) harmoniously in this tiny city. Its residents are gainfully employed, its children are well-educated, happy, and healthy, and the slum provides every amenity you could want–including multiple movie theatres–at a fraction of the cost you would find outside the slum. Once you get past the extremely close quarters and lingering smells, you come to see that Dharavi is a thriving, colourful, and very inclusive community in the heart of an otherwise big and imposing city.
So, would I recommend doing a tour of Dharavi? It depends. If you think it sounds amazing, unique, and interesting then you should definitely go; it will be all of those things and more. If you think it sounds uncomfortable but intriguing, you will likely find it to be both of those things as well and I would still recommend it. I can say that our tour was done thoughtfully and with the highest degree of compassion and respect for the people who reside within the community. We got to see a side of Mumbai that we would never otherwise have had access to and we learned a lot from the people we met. While I still find the concept of slum tourism a little bit unsettling, it was a unique and educational experience and I'm glad we did it.
