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Showing posts with label fair trade. Show all posts
Showing posts with label fair trade. Show all posts

Tuesday, October 1, 2013

Masters and Simplicity: The Veena Makers


We were in south India, and in search of a harmonium maker.

After asking around, we were assured that the right place had been found, and a few of us hopped into some tuk-tuks and headed out, down bouncy dirt roads, far out of town, until we came to this small workshop, which was NOT in fact a harmonium maker (surprise, surprise) but another kind of handcrafting.

Here, in this open air, dirt floored workshop, 3 generations of men were handmaking beautiful Veenas. 

You can see the progression below, from the raw wood to the instrument being tuned.   Each one of these takes a month to make, and there are usually several in process at once.

Thursday, March 26, 2009

Dialects

11:30 p.m., Thor’s day March 26rd, 2009
New Delhi




It’s so easy and natural, it happens in a blur of acclimation. My language goes local to make easier my communications with people with often limited or unconventional approaches to English comp. Sara’s been noticing it in our phone conversations. Perfect example tonight speaking with Kamal here at Abracadabra:

Me: Kamal ji, do you know if anyone is going to be checking into Room 3 in the next few days?

Kamal, with cocked head and quizzical look: Eh?

Me, pointing to the room: Room 3, tomorrow, coming, anyone?

Kamal, understanding: Oh, no, no one…

Wednesday, March 25, 2009

Grinding On

11 a.m., Wednesday March 23rd, 2009
New Delhi



The Marwari opium seller of Meherangarh Fort

Can’t say these have been the most inspiring of days. (Though there’s been a few moments.) I quasi-tweaked my back in Jaipur—just one of those funny movements where I felt a sheath of muscle in my mid/upper back suddenly tense and contract and serve notice that any more bad moves would likely result in a number of days of supinity.

I’ve managed OK since then, but the other day it kept reminding me it was still here, waiting to go on strike and this encouraging me into a more relaxed pace than is my usual here in the Delhi grind pit. A steady diet of ibuprofen has also been on the menu—and where’s that opium-dishing Marwari guard when I need him? Understandably righteous ideology notwithstanding, there’s a time and place for painkillers, it turns out. I’m not quite there, but I think I’m within sight.

Anyway, it’s all moving in slow motion, and allowing myself liberal time to take rest in my AC room here at the Abracadabra guest house (downstairs room 7, for those keeping score at home) seems to be an integral part of sanity.

On the other hand, the prospect of hitting the streets in search of Green Tara, old statuary and maybe a harmonium, is keeping my head in the game…


Mrs. Sharma supervising the cutting of a vintage Gudri blanket into its new life: a one-of-a-kind party jacket

Monday, March 23, 2009

Au Revoir, Rajasthan. Bon Soir, Delhi!

Midnight, Monday morning March 23rd, 2009
Freshly arrived back in New Delhi


Every nerve in my body is so vacant and numb,
I can’t even remember what it was I came here to get away from.
Don’t even hear the murmur of a prayer
It’s not dark yet, but it’s getting there.
Bob Dylan


Can’t say I’ve been looking forward to the return to Delhi. I actually really enjoy many elements here—mostly, the people I work with and my little circuit in town. But man, the air, and the noise.

I remember my first visit here: 1998, before they switched the massive bus fleet and many of the little motor rickshaws over to CNG—the largest compressed natural gas fleet in the world, or so it is proclaimed. The air was demonstrably worse then, amazingly—but still, it’s heinous today. Landing here a few (impossibly long) weeks ago, I got clobbered pronto by the assault. I hope I’m more acclimated now. (Hm, or do I?) Time will shortly tell.

For now, though, I’m just happy to be alive, after running the gauntlet of the Jaipur-Delhi highway. Phew. One tiny little sardine can car with no apparent shock absorption, a driver kept waiting too long by my day running late, the sunset rush out through the canyons between the Jal Mahal and the Amber Fort and the starkly bloated carcass of a massive water buffalo, an after dark tire blowout remedied by pausing in full traffic along the far lane on the Highway of Doom to change to a tire with wire mesh showing through it’s last shreds of rubber: stir and swallow whole, no chaser.

So, it’s good to be here, in one fleshy piece!

Sunday, March 22, 2009

I heard the news today. Oh, boy.

Sunday 1 a.m., March 22nd, 2009

Fires in Jodhpur. The other day I posted a photo of a cow ambling through the Sardar Market in Jodhpur; 2 days later a fire raged through that old market and destroyed 40—50 market stalls—a good portion of the area. Also, same day another fire destroyed at least one old furniture warehouse; I called to check with Mahendra and Gopal ji and confirmed that none of my people were hurt, but still—bad news for the Jodhpuris.

The Ides of March were unkind to those folks.

Dhrupad Festival of Classical Indian Music

Wednesday 2:05 p.m., March 18th, 2009
Jaipur Rajasthan


At last night’s Dhrupad Festival of classical Indian music, I was blessed to hear some outstanding pakhawaj drumming by two excellent players: Mohan Sharma (the teacher of my friends Vasant and Tulsi), and Devaki Nandan, a man Shyamdas described as possibly the finest pakhawaj player in all of India (which is to say, the world). I recorded it, and did a little bit of wide open snaffling on video as well, which I’ll post either to the blog (if the generally atrocious upload experience ever improves) or on the Dharma site later after my return to the land of clean air. Great stuff!

Interestingly, the instruments most associated with Indian music in the west, tabla and sitar (and more recently harmonium), are considered modern devices and not suitable for a classical music event like I just attended. So here it was more about the sarod, sarangi, pakhawaj, the veena—some of these instruments have so many strings in so many places, I’m not sure I could ever even learn to tune them! But man, they sound amazing, trance-inducing in their magnificence…

(still no pics uploading, sigh)

Escape from Sun City

Tuesday 8:45 a.m., March 17th, 2009
Back in Jaipur Rajasthan


(still no photos uploading...)

Groggily awakening from the warehouse-cruising stupor of recent days, and recovering from last night’s hair-raising ride down what passes for the Jodhpur-Jaipur highway.

I’ve generally appreciated my driver Ram’s acumen behind the wheel, and yesterday’s 5:30 p.m. departure started well—making good time, safely. But come darkness, I have to say I had my first ever sense in India that I’d rather be behind the wheel myself—which is a sort of deathwish. But Ram had this habit of gunning the accelerator and then slamming down on the brakes just milliseconds before whatever speed bump or cow or vehicle was coming our way—a couple of times it through me off the back seat; I had to remain sort of tensed and at the ready to stiff-arm the seat in front of me to avoid losing my teeth on any given sudden jerk. Man, after a few hours, I wanted out.

But on to better things.

These next couple days Jaipur is hosting a Dhrupad Festival of classical Indian music; Shyamdas and Tulsi arrived last night, Vasant is here with his pakhawaj teacher Sri Mohan Sharma ji. It should be a fun break from the buying action.

I have much work left to do in Jaipur, but I’m hoping I can both get it done and relax with friends here for a few days…

Meherangarh Fort

March 16th, 2009
Jodhpur Rajasthan


(late-posted, and with no photos, due to India interwebs issues: haven't been able to upload pics for almost a week, from multiple venues, sigh.)

I’m not the biggest old fort guy, I guess, but Jodhpur’s Meherangarah Fort had some fairly spectacular elements to it. Some photos [not] here. Oddly enough, I was even offered a dollop of opium by one of the Marwari guards—go figure!

Wish I had more time to explore, but 1.5 hours later, I was heading back for the final day of furniture work. Next time…

Sunday, March 15, 2009

Going All In

Sunday night 8 p.m., March 15th, 2009

OK, I’m about to leap off a precipice I’ve been previously intending to avoid.




Isn’t it funny, that moment where we just change our intention? We used to want that, but now we realize or simply decide ‘you know, I want this other outcome instead.’

I had come here thinking my buying was to be very limited and circumspect, mostly here to stoke working relationships and try to reconnect a bit with the deeper Indian bhava, or elevated devotional mood.

Meanwhile, I’m about to leap. I’ve found so much amazing old furniture and gonzo architectural elements these last days, and at such good prices, that I’ve now passed the shipping cost threshold—now, it’s cheaper for me to partially fill my own small container rather than ship LCL, where I fill only a part of a container that’s shared with a whole bunch of other random folks’ stuff too.




You can fit about 26-28 cbm (cubic meters) in a 20-foot container; the way the expenses work out anything over 10 cbm or so and you’re saving money versus an LCL deal. So, having hit probably 12-14 cbm, I reckon hey, I’m already saving money using my own box. In fact, anything else I throw in the box is, in one sense of mathematics, shipping for free (aside from customs duties etc.). In that sense, shouldn’t one be thinking to stuff that puppy with as much cbm as one can possible get away with? Like, even jamming another 15 cbm would be the ticket, right? Why, with that kind of space, one could buy another whole heap of pillars, doors, carved stone or wooden window sets or big furniture or who knows what all—and the relative cost for shipping would creep closer, on average, to less and less.

This is dangerous thinking.

First of all, I’m allergic to racking up credit card bills I’m not sure when (or how) I’ll pay off. Second, I’m already pushing my comfort threshold—and we’re talking suddenly about throwing another 10 or 20 grand at this situation, potentially. Seems imprudent, at best. In the face of this worst-in-a-lifetime economy? Unwise, even. Besides, where am I going to put all this cargo? My barn? Yeah, right.




And yet. Extenuating circumstances:
a) The USD is kicking tail on the rupee, more so than I’ve ever personally experienced. My dollar goes 10-20% farther this year than the last couple years. Seriously good for buying.
b) The suddenly quiet international shipping realm has, due to the worldwide economic slowdown, lowered shipping expenses somewhat.
c) The poor lost, empty ½ of the container. Empty! Seems rash, impudent even, to leave it so. I can hear the cries even now: “Cost efficiency! Boldness! Investment in history! Huzzah!” etc.
d) My barn! Surely we could make a little room…





Maybe I’m just flushed with enthusiasm, entheos, the sacred fervor that leads men to make wholly unwise decisions based on an ineffable and certainly unprovable underlying sense of how the universe is both structured and unfolding in this particular moment. Could be the fumes of India are getting to me, roiling my brainwaves. Could just be sh*t for brains.

But I’m seriously thinking of taking all the good work of the last 3-4 days and doubling down: buying as much in the next 6 hour day as I’ve bought the entire trip to date. Worst case, I trade a credit card balance for a barnful of vintage Rajasthani windows, arches, columns and architectural components. That’s a sucker’s bet if I ever saw one.


The Circus is in Town



March 15th, 2009


Wish I could go, with posters like these.

Beware the Ides of March, dude


Sardar Market, Jodhpur


March 15th, 2009

"It takes less than death to kill a man."

That's my random quote of the day. Seems halfway appropriate for the Ides of March…

Saturday, March 14, 2009

Haul, 2

OK, a few more dusty yard shots of the last couple days' work...







Photos of The Haul

Sat 14th 11:11 p.m.

This stuff has a way of looking even better in another month or two when it's cleaned up and somehow shows up in New England...





Working It

Saturday night 10 p.m., March 14, 2009



A focused day of exploring a second network of furniture , smalls and architectural pieces, then regrouping to sift through and refine yesterday’s sprawling collection of almost 100 pieces: benches, cabinets, temples, funky little vintage wooden Japanese noisemakers (?), Ganga-Yamuna ritual water pots, small stone archways and insets, ceramic candle holders, a killer collection of vintage sandalwood combs (wider and thinner spaced teeth on either side)…

Tomorrow is my day to finish up all my work here in Jodhpur, before hopping a ride either back to Jaipur or onwards to Nathdwara. Rest I hope is coming soon, as I barely slept a handful of fitfull hours sleep last night; I was tuckered by noon.

Theme of the photo day: architectural elements. I bought the piece that you see here with Gopal ji (in center) and 2 others standing in it.




Friday, March 13, 2009

No Wonder


Friday the 13th of March, 2009
Jodhpur, Rajasthan


No freaking wonder I got respiratory/chest problems upon arrival in Delhi: this little TV news screen capture says it all. The air pollution index (however they measure that) is off the charts in Delhi! Blasting past “unhealthy,” cruising easily beyond “alert” and well into “warning” en route to “emergency” levels—yikes!

I’m still getting over the head gunk from early in the trip; soon I’ll be one of those travelers you see wearing a big fat cloth mask all the time to keep at least the big chunks out of my lungs as I do my time on the streets…

Tuesday, March 10, 2009

Happy Holi!


Devotees at Govind Dev ji temple in Jaipur (2008)

March 10th, 2009
Jaipur


OK, today begins Holi, the spring festival of color. Beautiful when organic and soulful, boundary-busting and edgy unto dangerous when frolicked in as an excuse for alcohol and violent carousing, this festival goes way back to the time of Lord Krishna and beyond. I've tasted Holi while flying low over the festival fires burning every few blocks in Mumbai, and at homes and ancient temples in Rajasthan, over several years. It's a trip--America's got nothing like this--although I suppose Hallowe'en captures a small bit of its zany spirit.

I'm not sure how much I'll get out today into the madness--but in the meantime, here’s a shot from last year’s Holi time at the radiant Shree Govind Dev ji temple in the center of the Pink City…

Also, I found this blog through Varun responding to my own; a little rap and a couple funky pics about this crazy Holi color festival here in India:

http://varunwithu.blogspot.com/2009/02/holi-phagwa-doljatra-2009.html

Happy Holi!

Dreams and Textiles


LOVE this pattern on an old Gudri blanket from Bengal


5:35 a.m. Tuesday March 10th, 2009
Jaipur

Awoke suddenly a few moments ago from a stark and all too realistic feeling nightmare: I was traveling far from home (though not here in India) and I’d been temporarily abducted at gunpoint, along with several others, and forced inside a house to a back room where I was forced to kneel face down in front of some honcho to face my fate. I instantly realized I must prepare to die immediately. I prayed for calm and courage and sought the stillest, smallest place inside of me to orient around love, forgiveness and presence, and was in a flash ordered to sit up and show my face to my captor/fate decider. I did and he seemed a bit disappointed and said something like, ‘that’s not him’ and then they said I could go, bingo. The others all remained as hostages though, and as I walked out on my own volition to take up a semi-safe station outdoors maybe 100-150 feet from the building in a gas station next door, word filtered out that about two dozen others, foreigners like me, were being held inside at gunpoint. They even sent a captor woman out with two guns to the small group of random people who comprised the folks around me, which ended uneventfully. We were mostly plotting various ways of slipping out of there back to safety. After a while I realized that it was strangely safe to either commandeer a car and drive or otherwise simply walk away and that I needed to get the hell out of there and not linger, and that seemed like it was about to happen even as more details were coming out and it was clear that whatever police and government were now involved in the process… and then I awoke to utter darkness, feeling very nervous and it all seeming very real for a while. The birds starting chirping with gusto, and the pre-dawn call to prayer started being piped over the local neighborhood sound systems, and I gradually came back. Sobering, and weird.

On the upside: it was all a dream, and I did in fact enjoy a nice day yesterday. Went to the wonderful Govind Dev ji temple in the morning with my soul brother Raju, and caught up with him a bit before climbing into work mode. Picked a sofa frame which I plan to upholster with one of these fantastic Suzani pieces, got a couple other quotes and then doubled back with my friend Robert to finish our respective buys at the textile house where we’d discovered these pieces the day or two before.

Robert’s been an unexpected find these last days—an actual friendly, open and communicative fellow westerner (of sorts, he’s from the northern tip of Australia, which is pretty far from my “west”) who’s been fun to kick around with on our hunt for cool old textiles. He had a day or so of unplanned down time which I’d overheard him mention when we were both at the same place working with one of my favorite suppliers whom he was working with for the very first time. I asked him if he had any interest in great old textiles, as I was planning to spend the next day checking out one or two of Jaipur’s best wholesale sources of same; he jumped at it even though it’s not his usual gig, work-wise, and we came to enjoy each other’s company as we ate dust and sifted through hundreds of old Gudri and Suzani and other amazing, weird, and curious items.

I came home and took a nap and then Rob and I went out to grab dinner for one of my too-rare nights out here. Talked business, margin formulas, export shop, family, life and love and have generally enjoyed a little unexpected good company on our respective journeys far from home.

Rob seems to do a pretty nice business in a range of eco-friendly items, furniture and cool lifestyle items, including working with hotels across Asia to outfit their places with various great gear. If you ever need to outfit your hotel in Asia, give a shout and I’ll hook you up with him—he knows his stuff and I’ve been impressed by his professionalism and knowledge of and sensitivity to his own business and its impact on the planet, and just his plain old decency. With so many of my friends in India here for more devotional reasons (as am I at heart), it’s also been really nice to be able to talk shop and relate about some of the other crazy and amazing reasons why he and I are both here, working.

OK, time to try and go back to bed and take some rest before the sun comes up into the cacophony of dawn birdsong.



One of the Afghan Suzani pieces I just found-soon to be an amazing custom upholstered sofa?



Jai Shree Krishna!

And Happy Holi everyone!

Sunday, March 8, 2009

Happy Hunting

In my element, awash in history


11:14 p.m., Sunday March 8, 2009


Today is my father Edward’s birthday—#79. Just spoke with him by phone a bit ago, wishing him well in Concord New Hampshire during his morning and my evening of the same day.

Today was a grand adventure through two nice warehouse showrooms of textiles young and old. One I’ve been to a number of times, the other was a gem offered by our driver Surjeet, with whose car service I intend to travel to both Vrindavan and Jodhpur, in whichever order unfolds.

I went initially in search of old Gudri blankets, wonderful textiles with a marvelous variety of form and color represented in their patterns, sometimes manically different from front to back. Some I want to use for a small upholstery project, some for making some one-of-a-kind, uber-special party jackets, and some for simply bringing home to enjoy as is.

Lo and behold, the first stop even had a stack of enormous hand-embroidered vintage Afghan Suzani pieces, quite like the ones I scouted out myself last year in Afghanistan for me and some friends in New York. (Though I paid about half this asking price when I was in Afghanistan, no doubt. This year, it doesn’t feel worth the risk to travel there again.)

I picked a few out, sent some pics to a couple of clients to see if they were of interest, and picked a few that were nice enough to want to keep for sure, even though my budget didn’t include a Suzani score. That’s why God made credit cards, right? And scored almost twenty sweet Gudri pieces along the way, too. I’m having those cleaned and delivered to my guest house tomorrow—nice!


A splendid Afghan piece from the day's exploits


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