These were my favorite pieces...
Take a guess!
Dinner time.
W.B.N (wat by night)
Monday, June 29, 2009
By Day, By Night- Chiang Mai Sunday Market
These were my favorite pieces...
Take a guess!
Dinner time.
W.B.N (wat by night)
Kingdom of Smiles
Initial Observations, Mo Chit Northern Bus Station, Bangkok, Thailand.
Hour 1:
Style-- Legs! Lots of them. 80s jeans, different than 70s-influenced Tamil wear. Spunky haircuts and mini skirts.
Patriotism-- 1984 "honey coated Orwelian" feeling. It's 8:00 a.m and suddenly the hustle bustle of the bus station stops abruptly. Everybody becomes silent as the sound of the harmonious Thai anthem echoes from the television. Those who were walking stop.. those who were seated stand. For the next couple of minutes, I'm in awe as I watch these obedient patriots celebrate the Kingdom of Smiles.
Hour 2:
Mozzies!--The mosquitoes are bad...somehow I forgot that I was coming to southeast Asia, where mosquitoes are in fact bad. Did I bring enough repellent?
Sa wah dee cap!-- The Thai word for "welcome." Spoken everywhere, by everyone, all the time. It comes out in full nasal force and I indulge in every tone.
On another note...
Empty, dark skies parted to reveal a scattering of neon lights- Bangkok's personal galaxy. It's 5:30 a.m. and the plane lands safely outside the space-age looking airport. Instantly, I feel summoned far away from my Indian past. The airport's modern glow illuminates the streets nearby and the flight attendants welcome us to Thailand.
Fast forward: Speeding along the Bangkok race track with an ancient "No English, Miss" taxi driver. I'm wide-eyed and observant. I didn't expect my new surroundings to look quite so...new. I sit in anticipation, waiting for the old and dilapidated to spring up at least as often as the posh and modern (as is the case in India), but it doesn't. New buildings show off against a backdrop of even more modern infrastructure. The streets are swept clean and are lined by orderly trash cans.
Bus ride: 10 hours on the VIP bus from Bangkok to Chiang Mai. I'm too exhausted to enjoy the bizarre/comedic Thai reality show that's blaring over the speakers. I doze in and out and am awakened by fitful bursts of laughter- the audience is on cue. Men with faces caked in makeup strut around on camera, entertaining Thai audiences from here to the Phuket with their (dare I say typical?) Asian slapstick talent show routine. I glance away from the TV screen and peak out the window. Flashes of Bali green have replaced the city landscape and I'm enamored by the rice fields, street vendors and smell of coconut.
Chiang Mai: The city is clean, orderly, and comfortable. I duck into alleyways in search for the chaos and confusion that I've come to associate with everyday life (thanks, India)- it's nowhere to be found! The Thai are friendly and welcoming...it takes no time at all to reason why this land has been nicknamed the Kingdom of Smiles. I stroll around, shedding behind me pieces of my outer shell- constructed over a period of six months to defend myself against the Indian elements. I don't need to be so tough around here.
Sunday afternoon and evening- Chiang Mai market. Every Sunday, the side roads of Chiang Mai become dotted with vendors. Every nook and cranny is decorated with Hmong and Lahu inspired crafts- two ethnic groups native to Burma, China and Thailand. Jade jewelry, hand-crafted wooden bowls, and "fisherman pants" in every color imaginable.
Past the crafts, clothes, and art I find an even more delectable treasure trove. A haven of scents and smells enough to make anyone familiar with Asian culinary flavors squirm with delight. Soups, stews, spring rolls, and the infamous pad thai can be found in food stalls alongside even fresher and brighter snacks. Bright pink dragon fruit and coconut blazed, grilled banana..the options are endless.
So far, so good folks. A new exploration has begun...
Hour 1:
Style-- Legs! Lots of them. 80s jeans, different than 70s-influenced Tamil wear. Spunky haircuts and mini skirts.
Patriotism-- 1984 "honey coated Orwelian" feeling. It's 8:00 a.m and suddenly the hustle bustle of the bus station stops abruptly. Everybody becomes silent as the sound of the harmonious Thai anthem echoes from the television. Those who were walking stop.. those who were seated stand. For the next couple of minutes, I'm in awe as I watch these obedient patriots celebrate the Kingdom of Smiles.
Hour 2:
Mozzies!--The mosquitoes are bad...somehow I forgot that I was coming to southeast Asia, where mosquitoes are in fact bad. Did I bring enough repellent?
Sa wah dee cap!-- The Thai word for "welcome." Spoken everywhere, by everyone, all the time. It comes out in full nasal force and I indulge in every tone.
On another note...
Empty, dark skies parted to reveal a scattering of neon lights- Bangkok's personal galaxy. It's 5:30 a.m. and the plane lands safely outside the space-age looking airport. Instantly, I feel summoned far away from my Indian past. The airport's modern glow illuminates the streets nearby and the flight attendants welcome us to Thailand.
Fast forward: Speeding along the Bangkok race track with an ancient "No English, Miss" taxi driver. I'm wide-eyed and observant. I didn't expect my new surroundings to look quite so...new. I sit in anticipation, waiting for the old and dilapidated to spring up at least as often as the posh and modern (as is the case in India), but it doesn't. New buildings show off against a backdrop of even more modern infrastructure. The streets are swept clean and are lined by orderly trash cans.
Bus ride: 10 hours on the VIP bus from Bangkok to Chiang Mai. I'm too exhausted to enjoy the bizarre/comedic Thai reality show that's blaring over the speakers. I doze in and out and am awakened by fitful bursts of laughter- the audience is on cue. Men with faces caked in makeup strut around on camera, entertaining Thai audiences from here to the Phuket with their (dare I say typical?) Asian slapstick talent show routine. I glance away from the TV screen and peak out the window. Flashes of Bali green have replaced the city landscape and I'm enamored by the rice fields, street vendors and smell of coconut.
Chiang Mai: The city is clean, orderly, and comfortable. I duck into alleyways in search for the chaos and confusion that I've come to associate with everyday life (thanks, India)- it's nowhere to be found! The Thai are friendly and welcoming...it takes no time at all to reason why this land has been nicknamed the Kingdom of Smiles. I stroll around, shedding behind me pieces of my outer shell- constructed over a period of six months to defend myself against the Indian elements. I don't need to be so tough around here.
Sunday afternoon and evening- Chiang Mai market. Every Sunday, the side roads of Chiang Mai become dotted with vendors. Every nook and cranny is decorated with Hmong and Lahu inspired crafts- two ethnic groups native to Burma, China and Thailand. Jade jewelry, hand-crafted wooden bowls, and "fisherman pants" in every color imaginable.
Past the crafts, clothes, and art I find an even more delectable treasure trove. A haven of scents and smells enough to make anyone familiar with Asian culinary flavors squirm with delight. Soups, stews, spring rolls, and the infamous pad thai can be found in food stalls alongside even fresher and brighter snacks. Bright pink dragon fruit and coconut blazed, grilled banana..the options are endless.
So far, so good folks. A new exploration has begun...
Tuesday, June 23, 2009
picture this.
Several of these beginning pics are from my recent trip to Kodaikanal, an American hill station in the northwest part of Tamil Nadu. Myself, along with my trusted partner in crime, Callum Linton, ventured to the region for some rest, relaxation, and a goosie ride.
The hills of Kodaikanal! Beautiful town with fresh, cool temperatures. Kodaikanal is the only American hill station in India.
This was taken along the way from the Kodai Rd. trainstation to the town of Kodaikanal. Took about 3 hours in a rickety, public bus but the views were worth the ride.
Holy cow! Good morning bovines.
Out the front windshield of the bus!
Hike to Dolphins Peak in Vattakanal.
Cal and I at the tip of Dolphin's Peak! A hike mastered in flip-flops but was better suited for boots...we made it.
These lovebirds were resting at the edge of the cliff. Daredevils.
Reflections.
King C of the jungle.
Too bad the camera couldn't pick up the colors that existed in real life. Bright orange soda bottles contrasting with green and blue mountains in the background. Gorgeous :)
I couldn't help myself from asking the taxi driver to pull over when I spotted this roadside "market." These two women were selling delicious looking avocados, carrots and tomatoes..all against the backdrop of the mountains.
The ladies who sold it all.
It doesn't get much fresher than this folks.
Hanging tomato plants.
Yum! Had to buy a bundle of these- look how perfectly orange!
Roadside cotton candy anyone? How about some corn?
Vendors outside Silver Cascades waterfall.
A self-photographed picture of Callum and I at the Tibetan Brothers Restaurant. This photo was a necessity as we dined here on a daily basis. The momos were scrumptious and the lemon tea soothing..
The picturesque Coakers Walk. I set out at 8am this day to catch the mountains and valley before they became covered in fog.
Gorgeous view of the valley!
Sipping cardamom tea outside our guest house- amazing fog in the distance. (Fog, not smoke! What a relief..)
Coakers Walk in the evening.
Me in my element- fresh, cool air!
Goosie!!! Bring us to shore..
Eager to try our own on the horror scene-infused Disney Land paddle boats, Callum and I kicked and paddled our way across Kodaikanal Lake. Along the way, we made up stories about our trusted boat mascot, the pink swan, aka-Goosie.
"Kodaikanal Homestay" - Complete with two private cottages, a man named Raj, and a few too many dogs.
Speedo, one of Raj's nine slobbery German Shepherds...standing in front of our cottage.
somewhere different...
Elsewhere in India, one can find a pair of legs...
Mr. Ramesh selling salwar kameez and "ali baba" trousers.
Looking at art in a small shop in Mahabalipuram.
Stone carvings galore- mostly Shiva and Ganesh statues.
Mas arte.
Beautiful silk sold at the Pondy Bazaar market in Chennai.
Pondy Bazaar- a busy outdoor market near T. Nagar, Chennai
P. Bazaar
The hills of Kodaikanal! Beautiful town with fresh, cool temperatures. Kodaikanal is the only American hill station in India.
This was taken along the way from the Kodai Rd. trainstation to the town of Kodaikanal. Took about 3 hours in a rickety, public bus but the views were worth the ride.
Holy cow! Good morning bovines.
Out the front windshield of the bus!
Hike to Dolphins Peak in Vattakanal.
Cal and I at the tip of Dolphin's Peak! A hike mastered in flip-flops but was better suited for boots...we made it.
These lovebirds were resting at the edge of the cliff. Daredevils.
Reflections.
King C of the jungle.
Too bad the camera couldn't pick up the colors that existed in real life. Bright orange soda bottles contrasting with green and blue mountains in the background. Gorgeous :)
I couldn't help myself from asking the taxi driver to pull over when I spotted this roadside "market." These two women were selling delicious looking avocados, carrots and tomatoes..all against the backdrop of the mountains.
The ladies who sold it all.
It doesn't get much fresher than this folks.
Hanging tomato plants.
Yum! Had to buy a bundle of these- look how perfectly orange!
Roadside cotton candy anyone? How about some corn?
Vendors outside Silver Cascades waterfall.
A self-photographed picture of Callum and I at the Tibetan Brothers Restaurant. This photo was a necessity as we dined here on a daily basis. The momos were scrumptious and the lemon tea soothing..
The picturesque Coakers Walk. I set out at 8am this day to catch the mountains and valley before they became covered in fog.
Gorgeous view of the valley!
Sipping cardamom tea outside our guest house- amazing fog in the distance. (Fog, not smoke! What a relief..)
Coakers Walk in the evening.
Me in my element- fresh, cool air!
Goosie!!! Bring us to shore..
Eager to try our own on the horror scene-infused Disney Land paddle boats, Callum and I kicked and paddled our way across Kodaikanal Lake. Along the way, we made up stories about our trusted boat mascot, the pink swan, aka-Goosie.
"Kodaikanal Homestay" - Complete with two private cottages, a man named Raj, and a few too many dogs.
Speedo, one of Raj's nine slobbery German Shepherds...standing in front of our cottage.
somewhere different...
Elsewhere in India, one can find a pair of legs...
Mr. Ramesh selling salwar kameez and "ali baba" trousers.
Looking at art in a small shop in Mahabalipuram.
Stone carvings galore- mostly Shiva and Ganesh statues.
Mas arte.
Beautiful silk sold at the Pondy Bazaar market in Chennai.
Pondy Bazaar- a busy outdoor market near T. Nagar, Chennai
P. Bazaar
Monday, June 22, 2009
Not so fast little lady, We're not through with you!
I'm still here! Shocked and spellbound I am at never making it past the Chennai airport Saturday night. I was fully prepared to leave- equipped with packed bags, I said goodbyes to those I care about. It was time...
As it turns out, the immigration officials at the airport felt differently. Or at least they are the most tangible creatures with whom to rest my blame. As I neared the plane, I was stopped and told there were complications. I never officially "registered" in India. Confused and in a daze, the next few moments passed by like weighty, overwhelming burdens. I panicked when one official tore up my boarding pass in front of my eyes...despite my insistence to the contrary, he was determined to exercise his power and authority at any cost. When I politely demanded an explanation he said, "No registration Madam, you won't be traveling anywhere tonight."
It felt like some kind of sick joke. Maybe like wildfire, the word had spread around town that I was the girl whose body and heart had been battered by Mother India and in her final mad dash to escape, she would be forbidden.
I now feel more tired and confused than ever before. It's as if I've committed a crime and am now being held against my will. Though, rather than India banish my sinful ways from her sacred land, she chooses to remain inextricably linked to me. A bizarre and twisted infatuation between the victim and her captor.
Some of my more superstitious friends have declared that all this mess is a sign- I'm not meant to part with this place...there are still facets of Indian life that are meant for me to discover. The cynic in me wants to ignore these ideas...I catch my inner pessimist stating that the only sign in all of this is that India is a land ridden with unnecessary, bureaucratic hassles- in place only to make my life hell.
I would be lying, though, if I said that I harnessed my inner cynic in its entirety. Truthfully, a part of me indulges in the contrary... in the romantic interpretations of what this all could mean.
I've always appreciated the frankness in this quote: "Experience is the harshest of teachers. It gives the test first, and the lesson afterward." I feel as though my stay in India has involved numerous tests, one right after the other. Multiple choice tests of physical strength and mental clarity. True/false tests that reinvent my perceptions of reality and rumble my core. And with this, I'm trying to acknowledge the value of such tests, and appreciate that ultimately, these experiences could just teach me something about myself and the world.
But as I sit here now, I'm feeling overwhelmed by impatience and confusion. It's been long enough, and I don't know how much longer I can wait to discover the ultimate lesson...
As it turns out, the immigration officials at the airport felt differently. Or at least they are the most tangible creatures with whom to rest my blame. As I neared the plane, I was stopped and told there were complications. I never officially "registered" in India. Confused and in a daze, the next few moments passed by like weighty, overwhelming burdens. I panicked when one official tore up my boarding pass in front of my eyes...despite my insistence to the contrary, he was determined to exercise his power and authority at any cost. When I politely demanded an explanation he said, "No registration Madam, you won't be traveling anywhere tonight."
It felt like some kind of sick joke. Maybe like wildfire, the word had spread around town that I was the girl whose body and heart had been battered by Mother India and in her final mad dash to escape, she would be forbidden.
I now feel more tired and confused than ever before. It's as if I've committed a crime and am now being held against my will. Though, rather than India banish my sinful ways from her sacred land, she chooses to remain inextricably linked to me. A bizarre and twisted infatuation between the victim and her captor.
Some of my more superstitious friends have declared that all this mess is a sign- I'm not meant to part with this place...there are still facets of Indian life that are meant for me to discover. The cynic in me wants to ignore these ideas...I catch my inner pessimist stating that the only sign in all of this is that India is a land ridden with unnecessary, bureaucratic hassles- in place only to make my life hell.
I would be lying, though, if I said that I harnessed my inner cynic in its entirety. Truthfully, a part of me indulges in the contrary... in the romantic interpretations of what this all could mean.
I've always appreciated the frankness in this quote: "Experience is the harshest of teachers. It gives the test first, and the lesson afterward." I feel as though my stay in India has involved numerous tests, one right after the other. Multiple choice tests of physical strength and mental clarity. True/false tests that reinvent my perceptions of reality and rumble my core. And with this, I'm trying to acknowledge the value of such tests, and appreciate that ultimately, these experiences could just teach me something about myself and the world.
But as I sit here now, I'm feeling overwhelmed by impatience and confusion. It's been long enough, and I don't know how much longer I can wait to discover the ultimate lesson...
Monday, June 8, 2009
Time keeps on spinning, spinning...
Traveling isn't the same as it was in college. Studying abroad was the ultimate deal- a complete, balanced package of "exotic culture and adventure." Everything was planned in advance by the trip leader. Myself and the other students were relieved of the tedious formalities, such as paying visit to the immigration office and securing reliable transport. In hindsight, I realize how much I took for granted such luxuries. Suppose the expense of those study abroad programs alleviated "third-world burden" and enhanced Western convenience...
During my semesters abroad, I saw the best of the best. Hand-picked from a culturally diverse platter of sights and sounds. Historical sights one day, art museums the next. Free time was spent figuring out whether to visit the Great Wall or a local music performance. Indeed, as with most middle-upper class liberal arts programs, the choices were plenty.
It's been over a year now since I graduated and I'm finding myself in a much different state. My perspectives constantly changing- morphing into ideas that reflect my current context. I've been abroad since graduating, beginning in China, revisiting Indonesia and for the past five months, living in India. I find that people are often willing to give me feedback about where they think I'm at in my life. Everyone seems to have an opinion one way or another, and without hesitation, will offer advice as though they're doing me a service. Unsolicited, complimentary fortune-telling. Some say they're envious, others think I'm crazy.
I can't say my own opinions reflect any of those comments in their entirety, although I do feel that such external feedback challenges me to re-identify my purpose abroad.
Why live outside of one's home country?
Is my work benefiting the communities I come into contact with?
Are the relationships I form with people in such short periods of time meant to last?
These are some of the questions I'm asking myself now, as I have less than two weeks remaining in India.Having initially planned on returning in April, I've found myself clutching tight to my love affair with India. 5 1/2 months later, the countdown towards illegality has approached. My visa expires June 21st- just this afternoon, I booked a flight to Bangkok, Thailand for that very day.
I will get more into the details for my purpose in Thailand (I'll be working..), but I feel compelled to say this year hasn't been without its challenges. In college, I felt as though my freedom was infinite. The sights abroad were meant to be explored, photographed, and abandoned. I returned home after being abroad- adorned in ethnic jewelry, I shared awesome stories with fellow "enlightened" friends and made jokes about bizarre cultural traditions.
However, I no longer feel like I have a right to any of these things. I now feel like I'm playing the role of a guest, curious to learn more from her mysterious (if at times, inhospitable) host, but hesitant to overstay her welcome. I've realized that by living abroad, especially in a country like India, I'm forced to take the good with the bad. It's taught me more responsibility, in that I no longer have a teacher or parent to deal with humiliating bureaucracy and excessive paperwork.
At times, it's difficult for me to reconcile the two worlds. The picture perfect moments of cows moving alongside the cars on the highway..in contrast with a reality that just means you'll likely be late to work due to slow traffic.
These paradoxes are what drive me absolutely mad...but they're also what keep me coming back from more.
During my semesters abroad, I saw the best of the best. Hand-picked from a culturally diverse platter of sights and sounds. Historical sights one day, art museums the next. Free time was spent figuring out whether to visit the Great Wall or a local music performance. Indeed, as with most middle-upper class liberal arts programs, the choices were plenty.
It's been over a year now since I graduated and I'm finding myself in a much different state. My perspectives constantly changing- morphing into ideas that reflect my current context. I've been abroad since graduating, beginning in China, revisiting Indonesia and for the past five months, living in India. I find that people are often willing to give me feedback about where they think I'm at in my life. Everyone seems to have an opinion one way or another, and without hesitation, will offer advice as though they're doing me a service. Unsolicited, complimentary fortune-telling. Some say they're envious, others think I'm crazy.
I can't say my own opinions reflect any of those comments in their entirety, although I do feel that such external feedback challenges me to re-identify my purpose abroad.
Why live outside of one's home country?
Is my work benefiting the communities I come into contact with?
Are the relationships I form with people in such short periods of time meant to last?
These are some of the questions I'm asking myself now, as I have less than two weeks remaining in India.Having initially planned on returning in April, I've found myself clutching tight to my love affair with India. 5 1/2 months later, the countdown towards illegality has approached. My visa expires June 21st- just this afternoon, I booked a flight to Bangkok, Thailand for that very day.
I will get more into the details for my purpose in Thailand (I'll be working..), but I feel compelled to say this year hasn't been without its challenges. In college, I felt as though my freedom was infinite. The sights abroad were meant to be explored, photographed, and abandoned. I returned home after being abroad- adorned in ethnic jewelry, I shared awesome stories with fellow "enlightened" friends and made jokes about bizarre cultural traditions.
However, I no longer feel like I have a right to any of these things. I now feel like I'm playing the role of a guest, curious to learn more from her mysterious (if at times, inhospitable) host, but hesitant to overstay her welcome. I've realized that by living abroad, especially in a country like India, I'm forced to take the good with the bad. It's taught me more responsibility, in that I no longer have a teacher or parent to deal with humiliating bureaucracy and excessive paperwork.
At times, it's difficult for me to reconcile the two worlds. The picture perfect moments of cows moving alongside the cars on the highway..in contrast with a reality that just means you'll likely be late to work due to slow traffic.
These paradoxes are what drive me absolutely mad...but they're also what keep me coming back from more.
City Life
Children of the slums.
I walked through one of the nicer neighborhoods in Chennai the other day until the road came to a dead-end. The beautiful, freshly painted homes that lined the streets suddenly disappeared. With the disappearance of such modern buildings came the arrival of dirt paths, completely littered with trash. Where the road ends, the river begins- the stench of the river is overwhelming and I can't bring myself to breathe through my nose when I'm around it. Hidden behind a large pile of rubbish were these three kids, playing naked outside their homes. I don't know that they had ever seen a camera before.
Roof tops.
A small glimpse at what the slums look like- corrugated metal roofs, brick/mud walls, laundry airing outside...surrounded by waste.
Sweat and sun.
This man was hunched over a pile of bricks, hammering them until they crumbled at his feet. I couldn't really make out what the bricks were used for in this state, but can only assume it's for building material. He didn't mind having his picture taken, and smiled when I thanked him in Tamil.
Who the heck are you?
I spotted this little bugger waddling down the street like a penguin. I couldn't help but crack up as I watched her, about twenty feet in front of me, shuffle back and forth on her newly-discovered legs. I photographed her several times- the look in her eyes reveals her skeptic nature of me. Immediately after this picture, she burst into tears!
A woman with a story.
I met this woman while I was shopping in Spencers Plaza- a mall here in Chennai. What you see in the photo reflects the dimensions of her whole shop. I walked in, we exchanged smiles, and I asked if I could take her picture. She was more than happy to have her photo taken, and insisted that the picture to her right be in my photo as well. Turns out the picture beside her is of her daughter who passed away at age 36 from a motorcycle accident. This woman's shop used to be twice the size it is now- when her daughter died, she sold the other half of the shop to pay for her cremation. While she still has this small tailoring business, the other half of the shop is used for selling small gadgets, like Ipods and head phones. She said she wants nothing more than to die soon...having no family left, she comes to sit in the shop just to pass the time.
I hope I can visit her again soon...
A fortune-teller and his roadside business.
I ran into this man in a part of town I don't normally frequent. I was trying to figure out what he was selling when he asked if I wanted my palm read. As the sign indicates, he told me he could provide numerology, palm readings..the works. I told him I wasn't interested but would love to take a picture. Offered him 5 rupees to do so. He allowed me to take his picture and motioned me away when I tried to pay him. Really interesting eyes..
I walked through one of the nicer neighborhoods in Chennai the other day until the road came to a dead-end. The beautiful, freshly painted homes that lined the streets suddenly disappeared. With the disappearance of such modern buildings came the arrival of dirt paths, completely littered with trash. Where the road ends, the river begins- the stench of the river is overwhelming and I can't bring myself to breathe through my nose when I'm around it. Hidden behind a large pile of rubbish were these three kids, playing naked outside their homes. I don't know that they had ever seen a camera before.
Roof tops.
A small glimpse at what the slums look like- corrugated metal roofs, brick/mud walls, laundry airing outside...surrounded by waste.
Sweat and sun.
This man was hunched over a pile of bricks, hammering them until they crumbled at his feet. I couldn't really make out what the bricks were used for in this state, but can only assume it's for building material. He didn't mind having his picture taken, and smiled when I thanked him in Tamil.
Who the heck are you?
I spotted this little bugger waddling down the street like a penguin. I couldn't help but crack up as I watched her, about twenty feet in front of me, shuffle back and forth on her newly-discovered legs. I photographed her several times- the look in her eyes reveals her skeptic nature of me. Immediately after this picture, she burst into tears!
A woman with a story.
I met this woman while I was shopping in Spencers Plaza- a mall here in Chennai. What you see in the photo reflects the dimensions of her whole shop. I walked in, we exchanged smiles, and I asked if I could take her picture. She was more than happy to have her photo taken, and insisted that the picture to her right be in my photo as well. Turns out the picture beside her is of her daughter who passed away at age 36 from a motorcycle accident. This woman's shop used to be twice the size it is now- when her daughter died, she sold the other half of the shop to pay for her cremation. While she still has this small tailoring business, the other half of the shop is used for selling small gadgets, like Ipods and head phones. She said she wants nothing more than to die soon...having no family left, she comes to sit in the shop just to pass the time.
I hope I can visit her again soon...
A fortune-teller and his roadside business.
I ran into this man in a part of town I don't normally frequent. I was trying to figure out what he was selling when he asked if I wanted my palm read. As the sign indicates, he told me he could provide numerology, palm readings..the works. I told him I wasn't interested but would love to take a picture. Offered him 5 rupees to do so. He allowed me to take his picture and motioned me away when I tried to pay him. Really interesting eyes..
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