Dharavi Slums ~ People may see misery and filth here, but I saw a powerful community brimming over with life. It’s a matter of what you attend to, and consequently, what you process. At Dharavi, commercial and residential activities intermingle. Homes are on top of factories, or sometimes in them. Some alleys are too narrow for an open umbrella. So when it rains, you get wet. Each alley has a name (though without signs, no one could know by looking), and each home has a number. The mail man walks down the alleys, dropping mail at each home. He memorizes the vast complex, a labyrinth of repetitive buildings and pathways that compose Dharavi. There are a number of facilities, taking the world’s trash (yes, even American trash), and turning it into something useful. The annual revenue of Dharavi is about $70 million dollars.
Recycling Plastic ~ Recycling plastic is a complex operation involving many sub-operations. These sub-operations took place in separate facilities in the slums.
Sub-operation 1: Sorting Plastics By Quality. They are experts. There are over 20 kinds of plastics and they can tell each one apart. To the layperson, me, for example, all the plastics are very similar and for the most part, indistinguishable. These guys are truly impressive.
Sub-operation 2: Shredding the Plastic. They carry these plastics in gigantic bags on top of their heads. You could fit multiple people in these bags. After the plastics are sorted, they are shredded into grayish brown strips.
Sub-operation 3: Dying, Melting, and Cutting. These strips are washed and dyed a reddish brown color. The reddish brown pieces are put down a conveyer belt, then melted, then cut into thin and long spaghetti-like shapes. This plastic spaghetti is put through a chopper, where they are diced into tiny little beads. These beads made from recycled plastic are sold to plastics manufacturers all over the world. Peggy and I took a couple spaghetti-shaped pieces (scraps that didn’t make it to the bead cutting), as souvenirs.
Recycling Paint Cans ~ Recycling paint cans is another complex multi-step process, and like plastic recycling in Dharavi Slums, it is truly fascinating.
Sub-operation 1: Cleaning. They put the cans in boiling water to melt the paint that has dried to the interior and lids of the cans. They have no gloves, no eyewear … nothing but their natural thin layer of protection, skin, to protect their precious organs. They are inured to the danger and pain that would frighten any average man.
Sub-operation 2: Returning to Original Shape. This part is simpler – a man with a large hammer bangs at the cans until they are close to their original shape, thus, being able to contain the right amount of paint.
Sub-operation 3: Repairing. The cleaned cans are taken to another facility for repair. Again, this is a various dangerous operation which is conducted with little to no safety measures. The can repairer squats on the soil-covered ground, with a torch heating the head of a large soldering iron. To his left, there is a brick with a depression filled with solid aluminum. He dips the soldering iron first into a highly toxic acid. Inhaling the fumes would kill him, but he doesn’t wear a protective mask. The atmospheric fumes will probably shorten his life. Untimely death is on the horizon, but what are his other options? The acid helps the aluminum stick to the non-aluminum paint cans, repairing any small damages.
Sub-operation 4: Cleaning Again. Finally the cans are cleaned in boiling water by dipping, with bare hands, into boiling hot water. The recycled cans are finally ready to sell.
We also were taken to the leathers and textiles factories. Piles of hides were sitting around. Again, a complex process, the fur is removed from the hides before they are shipped to Dharavi. At Dharavi, they are cleaned, preserved, tanned, and sewn into goods for manufacturers such as Reebok and Gucci. From there, they travel far to your local mall. A few of the goods left me skeptical though, they looked like knockoffs you would get at a Chinatown in the States.
Many of the workers at Dharavi sleep and live in their factories, as it is cheap. Also, this way, their bosses can call them at any time of the day when help is needed. Work is literally just a step away.
The slum is organized into communities. The most dangerous jobs, such as plastic and can recycling, are done by males in the poorest area of the slums. As I said, some of these guys live at work, resting their heads and dreaming right by the machines that have become a part of them. They come from villages all around India, taking turns with other village men to work at the slums for a period of a few months, returning with money that will delight their families and keep them fed for months. When money gets low, a new man comes for dangerous work at Dharavi. They don’t seem to complain much. They look up from the acid at their feet to smile at us tourists. That meant a lot to me, considering our drastic socioeconomic differences, we could connect. I felt love for these people and their community as a whole, and I would like to think that that smile did not belie resentment.
Females and families live across the street, away from the various toxic fumes, to keep children safe. The fumes would kill them or cause severe brain damage. But work is done everywhere. On this side on the street, textiles and leather goods are made. Peggy and I bought goat leather wallets for 300 rupees – about 8 dollars.
Also on this side of the street, permanent residents from the Mumbai area and Maharashtra live more cozily. They are Hindi Indians. Their homes are generally large than those of the Muslims, village people, and other temporary residents.
We ended our tour and bought souvenirs from Reality Tours – two beautiful 360 degree panoramic photographs, one captures the slums from above, the other is of the paint can workers on an ordinary day. I also bought a t-shirt. Eighty percent of our money went to the Reality projects in the slums.
After that, Peggy and I checked out the Gateway of India in Colaba. In 2008, Islamic terrorists came into Mumbai from this way and attacked various buildings in the southern Mumbai district, for example, the Taj Mahal Hotel.
Then, we met up with Anu, saw an interesting art exhibit (the artist, KV Sridhar, "paints" digitally via an iPad application, and it looks very much like a real oil on canvas painting - http://www.ipops.in/exhibition.html), and had a fine dinner at Bay View, a restaurant in a luxury hotel facing the Marina Drive beaches. I had a delicious local lamb curry with a naan, and Peggy and Anu ate creamy pasta. We chatted and enjoyed the view of the falling waves and crashing rain.
Anu’s favorite:
Peggy’s favorite:
My favorite (bottom right):
boo. photos are missing in these posts
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