May 18, Mumbai - Slums can be clean

Breakfast: Hot Chai. Weather: 40 C + sunny.


Indian hosts (I've been told by different people) will feed you and treat you like you are the star guest at a 6-star hotel.

Between noon and lunch, we talked about some last minute preparations for the 3-long trip, and made a list of things to buy.

Between noon and lunch, we had a suggested walking tour of downtown Bombay, and then were promised a walk through a nearby slum. We decided that tomorrow we'll go downtown. Not long after that, Divya and I found ourselves, after lunch, outside on our way to ___ slum.



Muna, the host family driver who we were following, sped through the narrow streets within the slum, both sides filled with doors leading into houses the size of rooms. I was able to catch glimpses of people inside, sitting, letting the heat pass, letting lunch settle. I would lose Muna on most corners, the sharp turns and uneven grounds (at times tile, at times cement, at times neither), every right followed by a quick left.

The slums were clean. The still air was a parade of smells, the smell of sweat met with soap.  The streets are under 2 mts. wide. There is a door every 2 mts. Are there 2 floors? Between door cracks I spot shirtless old men sitting, grandmothers entertaining children, TVs full blast. In shops, which are a window packed with all types of snacks, heads would pop up at a chance of a customer. Kids were playing cricket, women hanging up clothes, sweat dripping down everyone's forehead.

People kept to themselves, yet the view of white skin, me, was an eye catcher. Those we would pass would shyly look at my legs, then catch a glimpse of my face, look away, check again, and triple check. I think this is how super models feel walking down the street.

We stopped at Swathi's house, her a friend of Manu and helper at our host's house. The door was open and 3 women were inside: Swathi, her mother, and her grandmother, sitting on the inside floor. Swathi jumps up with a smile upon seeing us, insists we come in. "Do you want some water? Something to eat?" she reaches into the kitchen drawer.

Water is a treasure in Bombay, and it is the first thing and last thing any host offers here. We'll remind Swathi several times through our short 10-minute visit that we just had lunch and aren't hungry. The Indian host culture surpasses social status.

The house is 3 steps by 4 steps. The entrance is the kitchen; I was able to spot about 20 pots and pans on the walls. There is nothing more. There is an upstairs, reached with a ladder. The second floor is 3 steps by 5 steps. There is a single bed, a lone CPU, an LG TV, 3 small tables, and the remaining wall space is filled with family portraits and diety figures.

With Divya's help, we are able to communicate with Swathi; the grandmother also joins us upstairs. 5 people live here: Swathi's sister is at a wedding & the father out working. This picture here is of Swathi and her sister, that one is Swathi, the other picture is Anita, a friend, who is part of the family. The largest picture in the room is of the older brother, an tender image of him laying smiling on a beautiful green patch of grass. The grandmother points to the TV and back to him; the brother is working in Puna and instead of sending money, sent the nice TV.

Where is the bathroom? "Public one down the street." Where do you wash clothes? "Oh, there is a place near the restroom." And to dry them? "That is ok," she waves, "there is space above the bed."
We thank the grinning family once again, and head back out through the labyrinth back to the roads of Bombay. "How do you know where to go?" Divya asks Muna. "I know because I'm taking you through the streets I know. There are too many others," responds the 23-or-24 year old: he is unsure of his age.

I know I am back on the roads and out of the slum because I can feel a breeze.


Dinner - a short lesson on basic Indian spices.
Snack - Dahi Vada. Dumplings soaked in fresh yoghurt with some spices. Actually fried lentils soaked in curd with chili powder and sprinkled cilantro.