Departure and Dharavi

MUMBAI, MAHARASHTRA - 20th November 2009

Surprise surprise, leaving Mangalore yesterday wasn't exactly fun. Without wanting to sound like a broken record, leaving "home" is a pretty uniquely emotional experience for me (and, I guess, most of my family), though trying to articulate why is always hard - after all everyone always says and knows holidays have to come to an end - and 6 weeks is certainly enough. The only way I can think to describe it is like this: coming to Mangalore isn't so much a holiday, which is a break from your normal life, as a shift to another, equally integral part of your life. So when you leave, you're also leaving that part of your life too... which is pretty gutting. What made it harder than usual was that, unlike almost every other time I've left before, this time I had no idea when I'd be back again.

However, it's pretty pointless for anyone to sit dwelling on sorrows, especially when time in India is limited - and coming to Mumbai presented 6 days to achieve a whole swathe of new experiences, beginning immediately after i landed yesterday with a trip to a Hindu wedding. As is standard here, there were something in the region of 1000 attendees - all dressed in the most vibrant colours imaginable, and none moreso than the bride's family. The level of gold and general jewelry on display would have had a souk owner licking his lips - there were things glistening on pretty much every part of every girl/woman's body. It would have made an excellent fashion parade.

The bridal couple had, funnily enough, been inadvertantly set up by my aunt. As kids they'd played together in the same block of flats, but years later, when they were teenagers, my aunt gave them and a load of friends a bunch of free tickets to the movies. These two sat next to each other, and the rest is history...! (As an aside, kudos to my Dad for jumping at the opportunity to suggest Mamta give me some free movie tickets... )

I jumped from one end of the opulent spectrum to the other today though, when fellow Pembrokian Anna (lately of "Young Pavlova" fame) invited me to join her and her friend on a tour of Dharavi - Asia's biggest slum. The tour was pretty impressive - people see Dharavi stretching for miles in every direction when they come in to land in Mumbai, but only by being on the ground can you appreciate the sheer level and scale of industry happening under the corregated iron rooftops. Our tour took us inside plastic recycling houses (guess where you're white recycling bags in Sevenoaks ultimately end up...), leather manufacturing shops, pottery barns and bakeries. For sure, every one of your senses takes a battering - the sight of rotting garbage, the stench of sewage, noise of machinery and motors in every direction, and of course kids jumping to shake hands with you every step of the way - but it's great to see how people don't stife in adversity, but work as hard as the next man. The place may be a slum, but it's got the productivity of Canary Wharf - perhaps not in value, but certainly in effort.

En route, I jumped at the opportunity to bowl a few balls at the local slum kids playing make-shift versions of cricket. It really is true that whatever language you speak, or wherever you're from - sport unites everyone.