yesterday, orientation was completed.
tomorrow, i leave on a project trip.
today, was a shopping day.
in my week and a half here, little exploration has happened. most of the moments here have been planned with orientation and those that weren’t were spent recovering from those which were. but today, i was rested. today, i was ready.
gretchen, rutu, and i set off for the bazaar. the walk down from the top of the hill is steep and my toes clutch tight around my flip flops. the trees we live amid are slowly replaced by shops and markets and the stillness in the air becomes consumed with activities. i try to engage in the conversation, i try to practice my hindi. but my mind is not there…my eyes have distracted it. i find myself unable to decide if i should sit and try to soak it all up. or if i should make my camera, a fifth appendage, and attempt to capture the little moments all around me. the walkers in front of me do not allow me the luxury of either. they are on a mission…clothes for me is their pursuit.
sigh.
another time.
i give into their promptings and follow them along to countless fabric and shawl shops. surely one will satisfy my tastes. i’m not picky, but i’m also not a shopper. usually, i like to get in, find what i need, and get out in as little time as possible. doesn’t happen that way here…a lot of things don’t.
shop by shop we go…this one too colorful, that one with too much pattern.
i like it simple. i want it blue. i don’t ask for much.
each vendor invites us into their store; a bench is waiting. in front of us, a platform where he stands surrounded by shelves and shelves of fabric. he pulls them out, one at a time and displays them in front of us. each owner is confident he will have what we want when no one else could. it’s hard for me to dismiss them with two feet of fabric lying before my. i want to apologize. the girls tell me not to mind, it’s how it works here. one by one we visit, to no avail. many beautiful fabrics, many vibrant colors, none to be had for me.
finally, it was found. it should have had my name on it…it’s that good. it is blue with simple butternut embroidery down the front. i like it. we trace our steps through the bazaar, the view different from this direction. the honking no longer makes me jump. i’ve realized it is not as flattery or out of anger, but more of an announcement…here i come, it seems to say. i move to the side as a seasoned professional. we pass through the touristy part of town, the shoe stores, the restaurants, the sweet shops. the children are finishing school and run around the streets in their uniforms. motorbikes pass quickly and old men play cards. often, the air breaks between the buildings and i catch a glimpse of the wide expanse of the mountains. i pause. it still takes my breath away.
our journey slowly takes us up the hillside. we stop at islam’s tailor shop for a fitting. my measurements are taken and the salwar specifics are discussed. the fabric is left and upon my return from my project trip, a suit will be waiting for me. it’s a one of a kind for only $13…and that was an expensive one.
