about town

The family did an excellent job of pretending that our desire to take a trip in to town by ourselves was completely ordinary.  After Geela gave the go-ahead they had no option but to holler across the water for a shikara.  

Simon says that bargaining for a tuk tuk is painful in my presence.  I know that drivers look at me and begin to plan for their daughters' wedding ceremonies, but there isn’t really anything I can do about it.    Burkas are fairly common here, but I would surely create a moving mountain of fabric that would simply draw more attention.  Simon does concede, however that I make crossing the road easier as few drivers are willing to risk a huge white mess.

Foreign tourists are so rare here now that people stare openly, but it is safe and everyone has been very kind.  I had a gaggle of boys who insisted on following me around a sightseeing stop in the old city yelling “Hello, taxi!” until  I was forced to  take the offensive, chasing them with my camera.  I made them sit like maharajas on a black marble bench for this picture:

family gathering

Yesterday the family hosted the yearly memorial for Simon’s grandfather at the house.  Things were a little tricky for a while because an unexpected general strike in town made buying provisions difficult.  Food, cooking gas and kerosene (for the inevitable power outage) all had to be purchased- and purchased by men because the situation in the city was considered unsuitable for women.  They managed it heroically and only one additional trip had to be made across the water for extra yogurt- the silly men only purchased 3 kilos the first time around.

Shikaras waiting for customers street-side.

During the day Simon’s dad and uncle agreed to play cards with us with the warning that they were distracted thinking about the preparations to concentrate properly.  Simon admitted later that he also found the amount of cleaning and cooking the women had to do exhausting to think about.

Geela’s sisters did not appear to help with the cooking 

as expected because they were too busy during the day.

You will be relieved to know that their families 

were able to find the time to attend the evening meal. 

Six priests preformed(?) the 2 hour long religious ceremony in the sitting room while most of the men in attendance, some of whom I suspect were not even invited, smoked and watched movies in the houseboat.  Tea and food had to be shuttled to them continually to prevent them from complaining afterwards that they were not treated nicely. 

Simon’s presence was required in the main room with the men for the meal.  I was also invited, but begged off any stayed with the women all crowded in to the kitchen.   Simon thought he would have rather stayed in the kitchen too until he saw the leftover food being scraped off the plates and returned to the cooks.  He has been here long enough to know that the women will eat whatever them men leave behind.

I am writing this long post because I have an unusual amount of quiet time this morning with everyone so exhausted from yesterday.  It is raining and the town appears to be very quiet (another strike perhaps).  I did not take photos of the event, but have added a few of the lake for good measure.

The family does not eat fish from Dal Lake but someone must.
Fishermen cast nets in the middle of the lake every morning

snap shots

 Srinigar (& Dal Lake) is in a
valley surrounded by mountains on all sides.

These boats are being used as docks for tourists to swim or water ski, but they are also commonly  called in to service as party boats complete with Bollywood music, lights and dancing.  No alcohol, obviously. 

Most importantly, these boats are decked out and used to ferry the groom and his family and friends to the bride's house during the wedding ceremony.

 Simon, his dad, his grandmother and I took a shikara (a canoe-like boat) ride around the lake together.  Sometimes tourists do shikara trekking spending several days floating, sleeping and eating on the boat.  Simon will not be doing this any time soon.  The  2 hour ride we took was broken up by lunch with his cousin and it was almost too much for him.

Simon's cousin Parvina came to stay in the house one night.  this is her sending her daughter Cerri off too school Saturday morning.  They are walking from the house between Simon's dad's houseboat and one owned by  his aunt Selima's family to the edge of the water to take a shikara to the bus stop.

Simon and I are staying in a room on the right.

This is Horis excited that the barbeque man has been called to provide snacks for the family.  This vendor services houseboats along the lake, but  most of his business is from selling to tourists floating on other shikaras.

Geela always says you can sell anything from a shikara- flash drives, vegetables, flower seeds, toilet paper, post cards.  Simon will need to practice his paddling before he can realize his dream of a chocolate selling shikara.

We are coming home!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!1

We are still here, and think we may have the Internet thing worked out. I will believe it when I see it. We wont be on skype anymore since theres no point, we will be seeing you all in person very soon. on May 1st (April 30th for Canada) we will begin our journey home, this journey will take 30 hours. we hope to see you all soon.
-Simon
this photo is of my cousin Horse

internet access denied

We landed in Delhi on the evening of the 5^th where we had some time for sightseeing and catching up.   In the hotel on the first night I informed Simon’s dad that the people from Kerala say that Kashmiri men are trained from childhood to earn money and seduce western women.  He said this was complete nonsense.  Boys went in to business early it was true, but the ability to sweet talk western women was a gift to the Kashmiris directly from Allah.  He also said I should never pay attention to the talk of jealous Indians, but it was difficult not to reflect on this conversation a little as we boarded the plane for Kashmir several days ahead of my own itinerary, but exactly as Geela had intended all along.

So now we are in Kashmir.   Things seem to have settled down here politically and it seems quite calm at the moment.  You do not need to worry about Simon’s safety here because there are people looking out for him.  His aunt Selima has consulted a number of shrines and temples and now believes that he needs a talisman to wear around his neck to protect him from “the eye”.  She has also recommended that Simon’s dad only introduce him to his closest family members on this visit to limit his potential exposure.  I am not sure what happens to people who are possessed by the eye, but I hope that the extra precautions pay off and I never find out.

Simon has also met two prospective marriage candidates so far. We went to dinner at a house with a pretty and precocious 14 year old girl where he was grilled thoroughly and told to work on his French.  The second meeting with a first cousin (attractive and already in first year college) was thankfully less formal .  Although Simon has been very good humored about the whole process, I am not sure he (or his father) is ready to sign a contract just yet.  I am simply using this platform to give my family advanced warning: Kashmiri brides expect gold….lots and lots of gold. 

We will post more details and pictures when Internet access permits- or if there are any big developments in these two stories.

moving on

  Our Thai visas have expired!

We are returning to India for a few weeks at least. 

Watch for updates.

a little chicken

I could not get closer with my camera
 because the damn things make too much noise.

I have been seeing large open work bamboo baskets for sale at road side stalls in Thailand and wanted one to take home with me.  They are far too large to fit in my suitcase and I had no idea what they are used for until I took a walk in my neighbourhood a few days ago.  They are chicken cages!

Many of the birds are free range during the day and the bamboo prisons are only dropped on them at night. Yes that's right, I said it: free range chicken in the middle of the city..

The local temples seem to prefer the free range kind.

This noisy bugger was sitting in a tree when I went to visit the Hmong tribe.  His owner takes him on a leash when he goes hunting in the jungle.  The noise he makes flushes wild birds out of the brush.

When I asked why the local dogs didn't eat this captive snack, it was explained to me that dogs and chickens are friends.  

l would fashion a muzzle for him to wear when he is hanging out at home if he were my personal jungle bait.

hilltribe hillarity

I was forced to change my Thai handicraft search strategy after the silk weaving adventure of 2013.  It was a relatively simple fix.  I only had to announce my desire to see authentic hilltribe textile craft production to three confused market vendors before one gave me a phone number.  Her father's phone number to be precise.  

One phone call later and I was heading out of town folded in to the half cab seat of the family pick-up truck. The jungle scenery was idylic and the muscle clenches I had to do every time the seat slid out of position on the mountain switch backs was undoubtedly excellent for building core strength.

The entire experience was amazing.  I got to watch Hmong traditional dress fabrics in all stages of production and was even allowed the batik wax resist technique.  I made a fool of myself for the general amusement of the crowd of villagers that had collected.

They were too polite to say anything directly, but I think I can assume that my lack of talent rules me out as a potential Hmong marriage candidate.  Good for a laugh, but not someone you would take home to mom (and the 7 other relatives that live in you two room house).

It is obvious I need practice if I  ever hope to find a husband, so in the end I bought three wax application tools.  They were made by the artist's father 20 years ago.  It seems even the skill required to make the tools is disappearing from their village.  She assured me that he would make her new ones to replace them, so they could be used to do demonstrations for the next hopeless tourist.
 

Hand worked applique.
Unfortunately, you can't see the bright blue cell phone stowed in the sewing basket in this photo.

A piece of finished batik and a finished pleated skirt.

Indigo plants used for dyeing.

Chang Yim

I am posting a 2 more pictures of Chang Yim for my nieces.