Sandals v. Shoes

I have a theory: you can tell people’s socio-economic status in Mumbai by whether they are wearing shoes or sandals.

            The heavy majority of people you see in Mumbai are wearing sandals. Folks walking down the street, street sellers, etc. You even see guys wearing a button down and slacks with sandals. Even though I look remotely Indian, people always seem to know I’m a foreigner, and I secretly think it’s because I’m often the only person around wearing shoes (and I sweat profusely in the humidity, while Indian folks seem to lack sweat glands or something). However, the one place in public that you see a majority of people wearing shoes is in the first class compartment of the metro trains.

            The trains here have 4 kinds of cars: the regular, second class cars, the ladies cars, a car for the disabled and elderly, and the first class car. Regular second class tickets cost about 10 rupees per ride (about 15 cents). A first class ticket costs about 50 rupees for a ride. I bought a three month 1^st class pass for 1500 rupees (about 25 dollars). That’s unlimited rides for three months for 25 bucks. For many of Mumbai’s residents, that is too much. The first class cars are a little less crowded, which is the most appealing thing about it for me.

            So, on the first class cars, you pretty much only see shoes. The folks in the first class car, like myself, are going to jobs in offices for private companies and organizations all over the city. In offices, you see shoes. In my office, most wear shoes, except for one dude. We have one secretary/admin type guy, who gets paper, signs for packages, runs errands, and doesn’t really speak great English. He wears sandals. I spoke to a few expats here, and found that this one person who does clerical stuff and wears sandals is present in many offices. I heard them referred to as office boys. Boys. I also heard the term “boy” in reference to the guys in the hostels I stayed at that cleaned rooms, brought hot water, carried your bags, etc. A group of 30 or 40 year old men that everyone referred to as “boy”. Maybe it is my upbringing in the United States, with our history of racial injustice and use of the word “boy” to denigrate an entire race, which shocks me when I hear the term. I don’t know.

            You see, Mumbai is a city of very rich and very poor. Although the middle class of India has been increasing in numbers for several years, Mumbai is a city of shocking disparity. A few weeks ago, I went to a very swanky bar on the roof of the 4 Seasons Hotel. It is in a very expensive part of town called Worli. The view was astounding. You could see the entire city. What struck me most though was that in between all the expensive high rise condo and apartment buildings, you saw slums. Right next to a high rise, or tucked in between a couple, you see a huge informal settlement of shacks with blue tarp for roofs. I felt like as far as I could see, there were tall buildings and an adjoining slum right next to it. Poverty is inescapable in Mumbai. Rich folks literally live on top of folks who live in shacks. The slums are not somewhere else, they are along your morning commute. On the street at night, you see tons of people sleeping on the sidewalk. I’m not talking about the odd homeless guy. I mean like hundreds of people sleeping on the street. You see whole families sleeping on a thin sheet on the sidewalk.

           

            One really crazy thing about India is how cheap labor is here. Every one of even modest means has a maid. Most people who are not poor have a person that comes and cleans the house daily. Many others also have a cook. At our office, this old woman comes every day for about an hour and simply washes our dishes after lunch. When I first moved into my apartment, my roommate wanted to hire maid.  I was skeptical, and I asked how much it would cost. She said that for a woman to come to our apartment three times a week for about 2 hours a day would cost 1500 rupees (25 bucks). I was shocked.

            Many of Mumbai’s wealthy have cars, but never drive them. Most have drivers. And this is how they get by. They live on top of the slums, go down to their garage, get driven away to work, and get driven back, constantly avoiding the poverty at their doorstep.