One of the things that I love about India is that because everything is a process, the every day often turns into an adventure. Today it was raining in the morning and had been raining all night. My host mother and project coordinator Mumta figured that the women wouldn’t come to the project in that weather, so the project was cancelled for the day. Katherine (co-volunteer from the UK) and I expressed interest in getting a salwar kameez made and this morphed into Katherine, myself, Wendy, Mumta and Kamesh (the landlady I mentioned earlier) dodging puddles through the alleyways of Old Faridabad.
I wasn’t too impressed with the first fabric shop that I went to – too many designs that were… I don’t even have the word for it. Some were garish, others looked like the same fabric you see fat Americans wearing in Moomoo form. Indian pattern choice is generally not my own.
At the second fabric shop, I found this beautiful fabric in a deep red with embroidery all over it – the tunic is of a style that I might be able to bring myself to wear in the states with leggings or something along those lines. The fabric itself is probably too nice (formal?) for what I can wear it as here in India, though I might do so anyway.
After a brief stop for the best samosas of my life, we went to a third fabric shop and then another shop to get trimming.
Then there was the tailor. Where we had to pick out a neckline, a back line (it will be low enough to show my back piece) and discuss sleeve lengths and the type of pant that I’d be getting. I pick it up in a week.
Afterwards, I convinced Katherine to come with me to the eye doctors so I could look into getting new frames (they are wicked cheap here).
Main Street, which we had avoided on our way to the market earlier but could not avoid to go to the eye doctors, was a river of mud. I’m not even exaggerating. There is absolutely no drainage system for a dirt road so the water just seeped into the road and created an almost quicksand like situation. Once we crossed Main Street, the road to the eye doctor’s was relatively clear… until we got to the intersection where the “mall” was. We were faced with what would qualify as a small lake or large pond, knee deep, blocking our path. There were waves in our street-lake.
We opted to scale a fence and walk through a field of garbage (not really much different from most sides of the roads, actually), laughing at the ridiculous of it all the whole way.
The eye doctor did not really have any frames that I liked… but I might come home with contacts. Regardless… the adventure of such simple things was worth it.
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