The Indian People

There are a LOT of people in India, more than 1 billion. The cities are huge, and jammed, but there are vast rural areas. Even here, though, hundreds of people will appear in a very small village; or one evening, in an extension of Diwali, dozens of candles flickered as a large group of people walked down a rural lane, seemingly miles from anywhere. When we drive through the smallest rural town, there may be a hundred people sitting in close proximity in small groups in or around tiny vendor stalls.

There are kids everywhere. School kids wear uniforms, and we've seen kids no older than 4 on their way to or from school. They generally walk in groups near the roads, probably for safety. Even the littlest boys wear white shirts and ties. They all smile and seem happy, and carry lots of books. No hesitation
about education here – we've seen very few kids anywhere who weren't in school. And everywhere we look, even in small towns, there are signs for university education classes. India's population grows by about 20 million people a year, and the kids are surely the future. It looks to be in good hands.

We're still learning about India's caste system.  Your station in life is determined significantly at the moment of birth. The earliest expressions of caste can be found in one of India’s vast bodies of religious scripture known as the Vedas.

The highest caste (Brahmans) consists of priests and the learned class. The wonderful Raman family with whom we celebrated Diwali in Varanasi (pictured here) are Brahmans.

The son, Navneet Raman, the community-oriented family scion, is not only a patron of Indian arts, but he is also working hard to establish the city of Varanasi as a World Heritage site.  In America, he'd be the president of a family foundation promoting the arts, such as the Heinz Endowments or the J. Paul Getty Trust. Visit his website (www.kritigallery.com)

The warrior class (Kshatriyas) were rulers and soldiers who fought for and protected the country.


We were told that one of the ways to identify men who are descended from this caste is by their thick and upturned mustaches


The merchant class (Vaishyas) is the third caste.  These have traditionally been the people associated with commercial livelihoods.  Here I am pictured with the gentleman in Cochin who has a thriving business selling Indian artifacts that come on the market when old mansions are renovated or torn down.  He wants the world to know more about Indian culture so he has spent his own money to establish a local museum.



Finally, we were told that the day-to-day workers  in Indian society make up the caste called Shudras.


The "Untouchables" occupy a place that is not clearly defined by boundaries. Their jobs (such as toilet cleaning and garbage removal) cause them to be considered impure and thus “untouchable.” An important thing to note is that the Vedas do NOT mention a concept such as Untouchability.  It is a part of the system that has been created by society itself. **

Here's a very interesting twist: Varanasi is a holy city, where Hindus come to pray and (if they are lucky) to die.  Die and get cremated there, and one goes straight to Nirvana without having to undergo additional reincarnations.  Untouchables are in charge of cremations in Varanasi and are the only ones allowed to perform that function.  The cost of a Varanasi cremation (one is pictured here, at a respectful distance), while "auspicious" for the deceased, is very, very costly for the family. Because of this, the chief cremator in Varanasi is the richest man and most influential person in that city despite being an "Untouchable."

While we were told many times that the caste system is no longer followed, we were also told that one's caste is always identified on his birth certificate. We were told that people used to be able to improve themselves by education and move among classes, but apparently not any more. This is especially significant regarding marriage, where the bride and groom's families must approve the arrangement, and each side is reluctant to approve someone from a lower class. Social customs seem to make life even more complicated here!

The Indian people are remarkably knowledgeable about the rest of the world. I was asked detailed and thorough questions about the U.S. economy, about politics and conflicts throughout the world, and especially about Barack Obama. In another stroke of spectacular genius, Fran went to an inauguration web site back in January, and ordered Obama pins and buttons. Our only mistake was bringing a couple of dozen to give away as mementos and small gifts. We could have given away 1,000. Peoples' faces literally lit up like kids at Christmas when we gave them one. Several people immediately put them on uniforms or shirts and strutted around proudly for all to see. I thought they were actually valued more than money.

The majority of the population is Hindu, with a significant percentage of Muslims. In the South, more than 20% of the population is Christian.



Women are not remotely equal in Hindu society, even though they may be smarter and work much harder than the men. In the Muslim community, of course, they have even less stature. In general, they seem to do virtually any work men do, including the most physical manual labor. They also, of course, manage the house and food and family. We were singularly impressed by how hard they work, how much responsibility they assume, and how important they are to the entire society. Women laborers are paid 100 rupees a day (~$2); men doing the same work right alongside them are paid 150 rupees per day. (Pay rates in the North seemed lower than in the rest of the country.)

Indian women are stunning, even when not blessed with great natural beauty. The Indian saree is surely the most elegant piece of clothing ever designed anywhere. Even everyday casual sarees are absolutely elegant, flowing and colorful and draped, often covering the head, very feminine and graceful.
On one recent day we saw women chopping wood and carrying it on their heads, tending goats near the road, building roads on their hands and knees (literally), carrying concrete on their heads, and plowing fields behind a water buffalo. And every single one was already dressed for dinner at most fine western  restaurants. We have previously been awed by the beauty of Japanese Kimonos and the simple and elegant Vietnamese Ao Dài, but we think Indian sarees surpass them all. Many younger women prefer the more casual salwar kameez on a daily basis, but hundreds of millions of Indian women still wear sarees every day. We saw remarkably few Indian women, of any age, wearing western clothing.

The cleanliness is also astounding. Everybody's hair is always clean and styled, and sarees and school clothes (and mens' more western wear) are always clean. When do they find the time (and the water, in rural areas) to do so much cleaning and laundry?!

 Pregnant women often go home to live with their mothers before and after the birth of their baby. The population of India increases by about 2% (20 million more births than deaths!) each year, yet we saw fewer than 5 pregnant women in our entire time in India.

Poverty is everywhere, and it's gut-wrenching. We knew, and we expected it, but nothing really prepares you. Mothers on the street use their kids as pawns, kids as young as 4 or 5 are on their own begging. Disappointingly, many are surprisingly aggressive. I suppose hunger and living on the street will do that. The most unfortunate, often grossly disfigured, frequent the most heavily trafficked tourist areas. You can't look – but you can't not look. We can't possibly help everybody; and once you give something to one, you're swarmed by dozens of others, which also doesn't work.

India has a burgeoning middle class, especially among the educated. I still believe education is the key, and we see thousands of eager schoolchildren. I'm very hopeful that in a few years the rising economy will begin to pull everybody up. Manik, our excellent guide in Mumbai, is a wonderful example.


But in the meantime, even many working people still live on a dollar a day. Drivers, in uniforms with good (company) cars, make little more than $2 per day. So a nominal tip for a few days work can be a month's pay. This driver, Surjeet, took us to four cities, and is one of the finest drivers we've met, anywhere in the world. The guides and drivers also really appreciate the commissions they share when we buy things from local merchants. (And they know precisely how much you spent.)

Beyond anything else, however, the people are open and friendly and service-oriented to a degree we've never encountered, anywhere else in the world.

As I review my notes, we rated some hotels highly, others less so. But in 100% of the places we stayed – literally every one – we noted that service was enthusiastic and absolutely exceptional. Even where staff was not well trained – not their fault – they tried so hard to anticipate and to serve. We have felt appreciated as customers, and treated more like royalty, than we've ever encountered, and it has been an exquisite pleasure.

** Quoted from History of the Caste System in India (http://www.mtholyoke.edu/~epandit/page2.html).

Mumbai

We're in Mumbai, formerly Bombay. It seems we saved the biggest and best for last.

The city is absolutely huge. More than 19 million people in the metropolitan area, but the waterfront goes for more than 20 km, some 12 miles. From a boat in the harbor the first morning, the city seemed to start in the north and disappear all the way in the south, skyscrapers the whole way, by far the longest waterfront I've ever seen.

On the way into the city we passed the "most expensive house in the world," a $2 billion (yep) effort being built by the CEO of Reliance Industries. 6 residence floors for his family, more for the guests, theater, offices, health clubs, entertainment, and much more. It's been under construction for two years, probably two more years to go. (For final architect's drawings and model photos, check here:

http://www.forbes.com/2008/04/30/home-india-billion-forbeslife-cx_mw_0430realestate.html)

We went to the caves on Elephanta Island, containing Hindu sculptures carved out of a solid rock mountain more than 1,000 years ago. At least 5 meters high and 30 meters into the mountain,
they carved around sections to leave natural pillars standing to help hold the ceiling up. Most of the paintings have long faded away, and the carvings were used by Muslim invaders for target practice, but many figures remain in each carving, and the guide walked us through the complex stories of the gods and their followers in each one. It was more than 90 degrees, we climbed a small mountain, and had two hour-long boat rides. After lunch in a great downtown tourist restaurant (Fran and I each ordered beef, the first we've seen in more than 5 weeks), we were ready to collapse.

The next morning we headed into the Dharavi slum, already described below, in another post. A truly powerful experience. The guide was from an organization called Reality Cares, which works to provide education for kids in the slums. Indeed, as we entered from the highway, many kids from outside were heading into the slum, along with us, to go to school. It surely seems like a worthwhile initiative.



On Sunday we took a city tour. The Taj Hotel is being rebuilt after the horrendous terror attack almost exactly a year ago, and is still the special place in town for important functions.  In fact, the PepsiCo board is meeting there while we're in town.




The hotel stands next to India Gateway, which is analogous to our Statue of Liberty. We went to the High Court, universities, and local government buildings, and visited the Jain Temple.

We visited Mahatma Gandhi's house and saw where he lived and worked. Remarkably simple, including the single room where he ate, slept, worked, and received visitors. It also includes the spinning wheel on which he made his own clothes. The library, which still holds 5,000 volumes, is still used for prayer meetings every week.



The local laundry was an amazing experience, more than 700 stalls where people were washing clothes. Bicycles arrive with peoples' laundry from all over the city (cleaning a shirt costs 60 cents), uniforms from hospitals, hotels, and other places lined roofs, and workers in shifts man the stalls 24 hours a day. (There are also many other similar washing locations around the city.)

We also visited Victoria Station, the country's largest train station, with more than 1.5 million passengers each day. The terrorists came here, also, and we stood in the waiting room where they started shooting. It's always jammed, and it would have been impossible not to do tremendous damage.






In the city streets we passed a Hindu festival in the streets, a common occurrence in a country with so many festivals! In the evening we went to a local dance theater.






Monday was set aside for shopping! Fran had been scouting handicrafts the entire trip, and studying stores around Mumbai, and she already knew many markets and handicraft stores she wanted to visit. By the end of the day she was a tired and very happy camper.

Tuesday we ventured through security at the back of the hotel and walked the beach. At low tide it's more than 50 meters wide, and it goes for miles. We relaxed in the lounge and worked on the blog before finally heading for the airport for a night flight to Tokyo.

Wednesday morning we'll cross the International Date Line, leaving Tokyo at 11:00 a.m. and arriving in Washington at 9:40 the same morning!

India is a huge, complex, and overwhelming country. We're now somewhat used to the population density in Asia, and the education level and work ethic here are similar to other Asian countries. The British influence remains, and most of the people already speak English. Indeed, with 22 national languages, many with few or no common origins, English sometimes seems like the internal bridge between India's peoples.

The people are delightful. We've never encountered a service ethic like India's, anywhere else in the world. It seemed to be everybody's mission to serve us, with a smile, in any way possible, at every possible moment. We have been treated like royalty.

We are extremely grateful to the guides who showed us their country and its history, and to the drivers who took us everywhere and took such good care of us the entire trip. Pictured here are two of our favorites: Arjun (driver) and Manik (tour guide), both of whom showed us Mumbai.

It's been a fabulous trip. We've seen more of the country than many local people we met, and we appreciate the history and culture in the East, across the North, and in the South. We are very fortunate to have seen everything they showed us.

India has a tremendous future. As the education level rises across all its people, and its middle class grows by hundreds of millions, India will become an intellectual and economic power that will rival anything else in the world. We've been very privileged to meet its people, see its history, and understand the environment that will make it all possible.

Security

The world has surely changed. Everybody in the world is more security-conscious these days, but it's present in spades in India. Soldiers and security people with guns are at every temple, toll booth, tourist spot, main street corners, and all over airports and train stations. Virtually every office building and upscale store has private security people.

Every carry-on bag is screened and stamped, then that stamp is double-checked before you board a plane, past the soldier with a weapon standing next to each boarding door (and at the other end, when you depart). In Delhi and Mumbai armed men surrounded each plane while it boarded and refueled. They even check boarding passes as you leave the plane.

The private security industry must have mushroomed in the past year, since the attack on the Taj Hotel and Victoria Station in Mumbai. Those men hijacked a fishing boat, killed the crew, and approached Mumbai from the sea in the middle of the night.









We stayed in the JW Marriott Hotel in Mumbai; Marriotts have also been repeatedly attacked around the world, and this is surely a microcosm. Security here starts with closed iron gates, opened for each vehicle. Then there are four solid steel posts, 12” in diameter, which must be lowered to let each vehicle in or out of the hotel drive. Each vehicle is searched by at least 4 people, who look under the hood, in the trunk, in the passenger compartment, one of whom has a bomb-sniffing dog. (Many places also use mirrors to check the undercarriage.)

Approaching the front door, every item (including all your luggage) is passed through an airport-type x-ray scanner, every person walks through an airport screener, and is then manually frisked. Women are screened by females, behind screens, but are similarly frisked. Finally, you're invited to enter the lobby. But if you're attentive, you also noticed the permanent bunkers on the sidewalk outside the hotel, and near the back entrance by the beach. These are occupied by men with machine guns, 24/7. And there's at least one sniper on the roof. People in security uniforms, wearing communication headsets, wander throughout the hotel at all times. There are cameras in every hallway. Room keys are needed to access any floor in the hotel, except the lobby.


The back entrance, facing the beach, is carefully guarded. The hotel is walled off by a 10' stone wall, about 12" thick. There is one gate, manned by a security guard 24/7, who has a list of hotel guests and room numbers. You must sign out and receive hotel ID to walk out to the beach. The door is solid wood with a lock the size of my fist. One small panel opens, and the door is not opened without visual contact and communication between the guards on both sides. Inside the wooden door is another, solid steel door, which is more bullet-proof.
[By the way, these pictures were downloaded from the internet.  For some reason, we were reluctant to ask men with guns to pose for us and say "cheese."]

There are constant celebrations here. People at the hotel next door have fired off firecrackers, several times a day or night, for the five days we've been here. One of the two men in the bunker on the beach is about 25 years old. I can't imagine a scarier or more thankless job.

The Mumbai Slums

Shocked and awed. We're shocked at what we saw, and awed by the resilience and fortitude of the people there.

Fran's comment was "I'm embarrassed about anything I've ever complained about in my life."

We went into the Dharavi slum in Mumbai today. There is a "no photos" policy, and I didn't take my camera.  The pictures shown here are from the National Geographic as well as other sites on the web. We had a superb guide, and he answered candidly every one of the dozens of questions we asked.

Covering 1.75 sq. km., it's about the size of our neighborhood (which is perhaps 250 houses). 1.1 million people live there. Think of the size of your house and lot: here 18,000 people live on one single acre (and no building is taller than 3 stories). There are several hundred thousand jobs, and a $600+ million economy in a little more than one square mile.

This is only one of some 2,000 slums in Mumbai. (That's not a typo; there's one across the street from The Four Seasons Hotel, 25 metres from their driveway). A "slum" here is a place where the government owns the land and the people are allowed to rent (or simply live in) some structure on it. It does not have the same connotation we might think - here it's simply a place with few services, but a less expensive place to live and work very hard. Only 36 slums are "legitimate," including this one, meaning the government provides electricity and running water (for 3 hours a day) and collects trash once a month. Only 1% of the people have a bathroom in their residence; there are public toilets (1 for every 1,500 people; not a typo), but they must bring their own water. And the guide explained that conditions in the other 99% (not legitimate) of the slums are much worse.

Most people here are migrants from elsewhere in India who come here from rural areas to make more money. At $4 to $5 per day (more than some places we saw in the North), that's not encouraging. And the people who own the businesses and pay the workers peanuts live elsewhere off the rich profits these businesses make.

We toured parts of the industrial, commercial, and residential areas. We saw recycling industries (plastics, cardboard, cooking oil cans), garment making, leather making, pottery making, and a host of other industries. We saw purses (and the raw skins from which they start) that will be labeled "Versace" or "Gucci" and sell for $250+ in London or New York or Tokyo. You could buy them here, as soon as they're made, for $20. We saw a neighborhood grocery store that was no larger than our laundry room.

It's 90 degrees here, and close to 100% humidity (thank goodness it's almost winter - it's 115 degrees in the summer). Nothing ever seems to dry. But these places go far beyond any concept I ever had of a "sweatshop." Rows of workers sat in individual spaces smaller than 16 sq. ft. I'm no labor expert, but I could easily recognize a dozen hazardous risk factors, including especially the air they breathed, in every workspace.

Child labor laws here require that employees be at least 14. We saw some that surely weren't, but not a lot (there might be thousands we didn't see), and they looked at least 12 and were not doing physically strenuous work. Everywhere, almost the only workers we saw were men.

In the residential area, we went through (“streets”) alleyways that are no more than 15" wide. Stairways to 2nd and 3rd floor dwellings go up at 70 degree angles, through 20” openings, people come down them backwards. Everything, everywhere, is wet (it hasn't rained in weeks). The living conditions are . . . appalling. From 3 to 8 people living in 400 - 900 sq. ft. rooms. Many migrant workers sleep on the floor in their workplace.

There may be water in one corner to cook and wash. Toilet facilities are outside, somewhere, especially in the public toilets. Many women, in particular, work inside the home, caring for the family and sometimes doing some kind of commercial work, but they are also "prisoners of the daylight," and wait eagerly for the darkness for personal functions.

Health conditions, in general, are deplorable, and polio and TB still exist in these areas. Remarkably, most children are born in a hospital, and the public hospitals, for all their faults, will treat everybody.

The population in the slum is about 50% Muslim, 40% Hindu, and 10% Christian. There are Muslim, Hindu, Christian, other private, and public schools. The Muslim school we saw teaches everybody who pays admission fees, including girls. It addresses all subjects, not just memorizing the Koran, and there's one teacher (often female) for each 10 students. The kids (there are a LOT of kids!) appeared bright, eager, and enthusiastic.

Indeed, almost everyone did. This is simply a way of life. Many people came a long way to live and work here, and hope someday to bring their families here, sometimes for generations. We sensed little or no resignation, discouragement, or hopelessness, and surely no sense of entitlement. This is life, and people simply accept it with determination, every single day, and proceed to make the best they can of it.

We left, overwhelmed by the poverty and appalled by the living conditions; but incredibly impressed with the resilience of the people who live there.

For more info:
http://ngm.nationalgeographic.com/2007/05/dharavi-mumbai-slum/jacobson-text
(click on Photo Gallery)