This is India, they always tell me, and then after a brief pause for effect and a knowing smile they will announce proudly; ANYTHING CAN HAPPEN.
If you have been to India you will know how easy it is to fall into conversation with perfect strangers. Often they turn out to be trying to sell you something, but just as often it can be genuine interest in the foreign guy.
So at breakfast yesterday, I was enjoying the excellent English breakfast you can get here in most good hotels. Especially in Delhi where I am now. HP sauce, baked beans, lovely crispy bacon... what a way to start a day. The guy at the next table asked me where I was from and we got chatting. A distinctive guy with a flat cap, booming theatrical voice and an award winning moustache. He told me he was involved with some craft people in Ladakh. Where? I asked, I thought I knew most places in India. Turns out this is a region on the disputed China / India border. One hour flight from Delhi.. it's very high, like Kathmandu and the people are not like Indians, but in culture more like Tibetans and looks like Chinese. We agreed to meet in the evening for a beer, and I went off to work.
I asked the travel desk for a car for the day, when I told the guy where I was going, his eyes widened and he warned me about pick pockets and the crowds and the bad people. There are better places I could go shopping in Delhi he told me. But Main Bazar, Paharganj is the real deal, an ancient wholesale trading market, a maze of trading outlets, hidden go-downs, and yes some dodgy goings on. But here you will find trading houses unchanged in a hundred years, they barely have computers and clerks hand write invoices and use huge leather bound ledgers.
I found a resin trader, Gum Copal and Benzoin and some interesting blends. And a trader dealing in stamps, wooden blocks, really made for making sari patterns. But worth thinking about. And all-sorts of other exotic possibilities, I ticked a few things on my list.. by mid-afternoon it was too hot to carry on.. so headed back to the hotel.
Turns out the breakfast guy, is a famous poet. And very well known. A steady stream of Delhiites came to shake his hand. We had a good chat and he presented me with a signed copy of poems. And even gave an impromptu reading sounding rather like I imagine Rudyard Kipling would sound.
Like I said.. this is India.. anything can happen.
Further distractions: Ladakh, Amit the Poet, Main Bazar Delhi.
More news next week.
Regards
David
