slum tourism.

I wore my calf hair ballerinas through this filthy, chaotic plot of land in the middle of Mumbai, right off of a highway and next to a major subway station, and I took some stunning pictures. One guy on the tour took out his bottle of hand sanitizer each time an eager young kid ran up to shake his hand. The bottle was already half-empty by the time we walked into the slum so it made this unpleasant noise every time he used it. Hand shake, awkward smile, “I’m fine, how are you?”, reach into pocket - squirt, squirt.

All 15 of us walked out of the slum with pretty pictures. There were heated debates about what the Indian government could have done better. Someone suggested that we shouldn’t assume that people weren’t happy living in the slums. Someone suggested that it’s not the government’s problem - if these people really, really, really wanted to leave, they could have. Between all 15 of us we had an average of more than 2 degrees. At least 6 years of graduate education. Each of us made 6-figure salaries.

And we walked out with pretty pictures.

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