Decisions, decisions, decisions

(For those who aren't interested in the shopping details skip to the bottom for the details on rickshaws.)

You all know I like to shop. Ladies don't laugh, most of you are just as bad. If one is good, two is better and three is best! It isn't as though I'm looking to do the typical shopping I could find at home. I want to see what's particular to the area. And for anyone who knows me the Indian textiles are like my 5th Avenue! (Don't get me wrong, I love coutoure but there is a drastic price difference.)

There is such a wide variety here, in quality as well as color, that choosing where to shop can be as difficult as making a selection. We started in the market because that is what 8 wanted to experience - the barter system and ethnic flavor of India. Less than 20 minutes into the day I felt just aweful for two reasons. First, the quality wasn't anything that would be useable at home and frankly novelty idols weren't something I was interested in. Second, I was going to have tell Rajan he was right and you know how much I hate that! Nali could see my 'disappointment' and suggested we try the mall. I really should listen to those who know more than I.

Most of the stores were western in style; probably 80%. This was most likely best were I was concerned or I may never have made it past the first floor. (The malls are 4 floors - we should be importing those!) Shop keepers are the most pleasant people you've ever met. Please sit down, have a drink, let me unfold for you 3 dozen items. You dont't want to buy anything then thanks for coming and have a good day. The dollar is so strong I could have bought everything I wanted and not thought twice. Most items are simple textiles: embroidered pashmina, saris, and glass bangle bracelets. How much of that is practical for use at home? It would sit in my closet and never be seen. (Don't be fooled, there will be plenty sitting in my closet - I didn't avoid all temptation.)

Let me tell you the biggest disappointment. A little history first. I have noticed all week that I am rather tall here. Most people, men included, are shorter than I. This was great in the crowded city because I didn't feel quite so overwhelmed. Here comes the problem. Short people have small feet. So you guessed it: problem finding shoes! Let me just tell you the richly embroidered shoes in every style and color are to die for! That is my one dissappointment for the day. (Don't think for a minute I walked away with nothing! It just took a little persistance to find the right shop that had more than just the reject shoes stocked in my size.)

We took a rickshaw home. I don't even know how to expound on that sentence because there is just so much to say so see if you can create the visual picture. (Whatever you come up with can't nearly be as funny as we must have looked.) The rickshaw is the typical small two seat bench on the back of a three wheeled bike. Of course it's painted in a rainbow of colors with no cohesive design but it does a flair. The man peddling the bike is lucky if he weighs 100 lbs fully clothed and soaking wet. There are three of us, with bags, and I'm the smallest of the group. We pile in, me sitting on the back to the bench in the middle, the two other ladies on the seat, bags every which way and the poor man begins peddling through the hellatious trafic in the center of the city. If I forgot to mention earlier Delhi has the largest speed bumps I've ever seen. They are more like small mountains; especially since they are not gently rounded in any way. We are swerving through traffic, being passed by millimeters on either side, horns are blowing and all the while grasping at anything and nothing as we bouce over these concrete land mines. I hope people were enjoying the sight because everyone deserves to laugh that hard at least once in their life.

It was a memorable day and fun to choose a few things to bring home and pick out colored bangles for the girls as well. These are the experiences that make diving in head first not quite so daunting.