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Triangle bread. How perfect is this? Think about it: a slice of bread with only two edges is a one-dimensional object, or in scientific terms, “crust” – and in light of the perfect economy of the three-sided bread seen here, the two-dimensional, four-sided bread we are all accustomed to is just wasteful. PLUS, no more lost energy slicing sandwiches or French toast. How did this brilliant idea pass us by?
Archive for the ‘Photographs’ Category
Triangulicious !
Beautility™
Our new driver took me to the City Market today in the old chaotic filthy part of Bangalore, where ponies pull wooden carts filled with construction materials and vegetable sellers proudly display their wares, and hundreds of people spend their days stringing tuberose, magnolia, chrysanthemum and rose blossoms into hefty garlands.
These fragrant ropes will find their way to temples, and be draped around the necks of statues, strung across the front of smoky tuk-tuks (also known as “auto rickshaws”), and settle onto every available surface in our temporary apartment. They will last for only a couple of days; so the flower people are ensured work, since flower garlands are everywhere :
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Our driver, Bhaskar, explained that the jasmine flowers women wear in their hair is a Bangalore tradition. I bought a string and he pinned them into to my braid. Immediately I was enveloped in a magical force field of jasmine that moved with me as I walked. It became clear that this was a tradition that had sprung from simple necessity: in a country that can sideswipe you at any moment with a powerful waft of, “What the hell is that…” it makes perfect sense to enlist sweet jasmine to go to battle against the elements, and remind you of the beauty of life :
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It also occurred to me that the scarf women wear draped across their neck isn’t just an elegant statement of modesty, it provides a handy rag to hold over your mouth and nose on a moments notice. Accident? I don’t think so :
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Street fashion always sprouts from some functional need, like the rolled up right pant leg, hoodie, and messenger bag sported by half the population of San Francisco. Function inevitably becomes fashion – even in San Francisco, the anti-fashion capitol of the world.
~ Pam
Taxi Drivers Take Us For A Ride…
Here in India, every driver has a friend, and every friend has a business, and every businessman runs an orphanage, and every one of them thus far has managed to part us from a good chunk of our money.
We make up excuses and justifications for our accidental rampant spending: We are weak. We like things. We are American. We are still confused by Indian money. We feel sad when people say the word “orphan.”
After several of these purchases, it occurs to me that we are becoming “those people.” Those people whose homes are decorated with exotic, though mismatched, treasures acquired on their travels. Every piece will have a story, a long story, a story with which we will bore dinner guests, children and grandchildren for years to come. Stories that will all start with phrases like, “Oh yes, we picked that up near the ancient fort in Jodhpur right before we were pickpocketed by monkeys,” or, “That was hand-stitched by Hindu eunuchs,” or, “That piece is a great example of the….blah, blah, blah.” Every story will grind into a long winded history lesson. Word will get around. No one will come to visit. We’ll die old and alone. But with a bunch a really cool stuff.
As practice, I’ve decided to do the rundown of the past week’s travels as seen through the lens of the past week’s purchases; each entry accompanied by a long winded and boring Back Story (B.S.).
Giant Cashmere Bedcover/Throw/Shawl Thingie
Cost : 12,500.00 INR
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B.S. Our driver took us to his friend’s textile warehouse in Jodhpur assuring us that it was the best in the city; that all the other shops in the area buy their goods from him, and that all the proceeds from the store go to his orphanage. Who were we to question? We followed our driver into a five-story riot of color. Silks, wools, pashmina, cashmere, cotton, mirrored embroidery. It looked as though the entire Haight Ashbury had been thrown up on the walls and floors, draped over stair rails, benches and curtains.
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We were seated on a cushioned bench against the back wall; hot cups of chai were placed in our hands. The salesman dazzled us with swooping drapes of color; one after another floated to the floor in front of us, effectively blocking any escape we might be planning. He named dropped: Bill Murray, Richard Gere, Angelica Houston, Angelina Jolie, they had all just been there, and he told us which pieces they bought, with the hope that we’d be shallow enough to purchase something because someone famous had – we are. He showed us pieces that he’d created for Hermes and Armani, in case we were brand whores – we are. We were pretty sure he was telling tales, but by this time we were hypnotized and had lost all hope of leaving with our credit line intact. The process took on a life of its own. We were both draped in pashminas and wrapped in silks. “Ooh, that color looks beautiful on you,” the salesman cooed, with just enough fey affectation that we believed him.
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Several versions of this same story unfold over a three-day period. Sitting on cushions in a forest of woven fabric, layers and layers of color laid out in front of us until we no longer knew where we were or what we were doing, and the only way to break the spell was to purchase something. We tell ourselves it’ll be a reminder of our honeymoon for the rest of our lives, we manage to have a terrible argument in the honeymoon suite in Jaisalmer. Something we don’t really want to be reminded of.
Blue Cotton Bed Cover
Cost: 2,000.00 INR
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B.S. Made of hand-dyed Indian cotton, painstakingly stitched by three Punjabi widows who worked on it for more than one year. Purchased from a back alley shop in Jaisalmer that has been in business since the 1600’s. And the owner runs an orphanage !
Antique Threadwork Wall Hanging
Cost: 14,500.00 INR
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B.S. Stumbled upon at a shop in Jaisalmer, on a late night stroll past garbage-eating cows on the way back to our room at the Shahi Palace, after eating the worst Italian food on the planet. This piece is made of a patchwork of fragments of antique ceremonial royal clothing with embellished with gold and silver thread. A rare find, as most of the metal-threaded garments in the area have long since been melted down and sold to feed the orphaned children.
Beaded and Sequined Blue Bed Cover
Cost : 3000.00 INR
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B.S. A patchwork of antique fabric, hand-stitched, then soaked in traditional Indian indigo die. Made by the women from a small village near the Pakistan border. The moustached salesmen showed us pictures of the children at the orphanage.
Heartbreakingly Beautiful Antique Wooden Buddha
Cost : 200,000.00 INR
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B.S. This, along with three rings and two jeweled pendants, were purchased from and blessed by Bablou, a spookily accurate palm reader and jewelry/antique merchant, as protection from the bad things that would surely have befallen us had we not purchased these powerful objects. He assured us that the money wasn’t for him, but rather the 120 orphans he feeds every day. He made me promise I’d come back and see him again. I probably will.
Phil says:
I’ve never wanted a Buddha. I’ve never needed a Buddha. I’ve never wanted to be the kind of person who has a Buddha. And I sure as hell was not interested in BUYING an antique (or so said Bablou) Buddha for $ [amount redacted].00 USD cash money. But there it is. I totally love this Buddha.
Silver Tea Service
Cost : 3000.00 INR
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B.S. A total misunderstanding. Pam needs to polish her currency conversion skills. And yeah, it would help if the people here spoke some form of intelligible English (says the arrogant American). Anyway, I think the shop owner may have grown up in an orphanage.
The rumor that India is a cheap place to live? Priceless :)
~ Pam
Pam. The Other White Meat.
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In spite of my efforts to “blend,” I continue to be the object of endless, unabashed ogling. Men, women and children burn holes in me with their eyes. I’m not sure which is worse: getting used to it, or not getting used to it…
A Night Visit To Shiva
After an uneventful Valentine’s Day dinner at the Leela (other than doing our best to stump the wandering serenade guy and handing out contraband hearts), we decided to walk up the street to what is known to be the largest Shiva temple in India. I love this photo of Ganesh:
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Apparently there are 108 names for Shiva. Putting a gold coin into each of 108 golden bowls, each with one of Shiva’s names posted, apparently helps to memorize all the names ;)
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They were repainting Shiva that night, as it was apparently an auspicious date…
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Here is the dramatic view of Shiva:
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If you look closely at the foot of Shiva you can see tiny Pam there…
~ Phil :)
Meet the Doppelgangers !
Somewhere in the Thar desert, about 65 kilometers from Pakistan’s eastern border, under the light of a full moon and surrounded by growling camels and Rajasthani rhythms played on traditional instruments (a plastic antifreeze jug and a metal plate), we met our doppelgangers!
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Nina and Andrew are a British couple living and working in Bangalore, and who, it seems, have done everything we’ve done, only just slightly before. Watching them was eerily like looking in a mirror, from their disastrous attempts to quit smoking, to their ability to both stay up and sleep later than anyone else in the group. We’re thrilled to know people in Bangalore, especially ones we feel like we’ve already known for years.
~ Pam