Consider it pure joy

 

Yesterday on our shopping trip, a fun trip was had by all but only because if we did not laugh we may have cried.

Mossee and I went by tuk tuk to the air conditioned mall nearby. Our mission was to find a salwar chemise top or two for me to wear when I am speaking. Normally this would not be too difficult. Even though my Canterbury farm girl physique is a littler chunkier than the average petite local, there was usually a “big size for memsahib”. Unfortunately memsahib has put on more than just a little weight since she was last in the market for clothes so I knew it would be a challenge to find something to fit.

Usually I have bought a matching salwar chemise set which included trousers and possibly a duparta, scarf, thrown in as well.  The best place to find these were at markets. Nowadays with the advent of air conditioned malls clothing shops sell them.

The shops while selling items cheaper than in NZ are  more expensive than a market. The tops are displayed in exquisitely ordered piles. We unfortunately had to demolish the orderly appearance of the piles to find what we wanted.  We looked for a design I liked, pulled the XXL size from the bottom of the pile and then see  if I  could pull it up over my arms. If the article fitted over my arms, then I might try it on. Otherwise we left it in a semi-tidy pile for someone with a gift  of folding to refold. Mossee said it was ok. I felt a little embarrassed.

After we had done this twenty times or so Mossee hit on the idea of measuring it across the back of my shoulders. This was far more efficient and less heat producing method of deciding if the top might fit. I have not mentioned the heat but the temperatures are in the thirties at present.

 Eventually we found two tops that would suffice. One had matching trousers and for the other one we found some. I need counselling for the price I paid. I am still hoping to find another one or two on a market expedition but I have not told Mossee that yet.

 Later we went fruit and vegetable buying. This was far less exhausting.  We bought papaya, guava and okra. I also found some amla which are Indian gooseberries. We cooked them up this morning. I expected them to turn to mush like gooseberries usually do. To my surprise however, they stayed whole and had a stone in them much like a plum.

 

The reason I bought the amla was because I read somewhere they helped deal with cholesterol. Not sure in the quantities I will eat them my cholesterol numbers will change much though.

Mossee is off to buy m**t this afternoon. A big festival where non-meat eating is esteemed is about to start. No m**t will be available for sale for about a week. From past experience I know it is about to get very noisy and possibly a little crazy.

Catching up with old friends

 Here I am safe and sound in a place similar to Hephzibah but not Hephzibah. Guess there can be more than one city that will be renamed Hephzibah. 

I eventually made it through immigration not because someone took exception to letting an on-holiday journalist into the country but because several plane loads of people arrived at once and there were long queues.

A kind immigration dada let me fill in a form I missed seeing I needed at his desk without making me go to the back of the queue. He also commented on my journalist visa. "You are a journalist," he said with what could have been an admiring tone in his voice.

"Oh no sir," I protested. "Not for the next two weeks. I am on holiday." He seemed to enjoy the joke.

I eventually found my old friend Mossee  outside the building. Only people leaving or arriving on planes are allowed inside the building.  She was wondering if she had missed me. 

We went to catch an Ola which is like an Uber but cheaper. Mossee did not like the look of the car the driver pulled up in. She thought it was a bit bent out of shape. There is no doubt it had been bent out of shape in various places and then bent back in. I wondered if we should drive with someone who possibly could have a penchant to smashing up his vehicle. However,  the car was probably driven by others who might have done the damage. So we gave him the benefit of the doubt and arrived home without any incidents. 

I sat down to a hearty breakfast of chicken curry,  rice, cucumber and  dahl cooked by Mossee's daughter Chame.  I certainly will not need lunch. There was nearly one small astronomical mishap when I noticed a heart shaped something that indeed was a heart. I managed to swallow it down with some rice and dahl with never a nauseus turn of the stomach. For some people chicken feet, hearts and necks are a delicacy but not for this Canterbury farm girl.

I have a lovely large bedroom while the other three in the household share a smaller room. It has a lovely balcony. I do enjoy a sit on a balcony although it is a bit hot for that at present.

The bedroom is complete with a welcome basket of goodies and a large salwar top that Mossee managed to find. 

It is only 11am but feels like mid afternoon which it is at the ends of the earth. Later we will venture out to the mall and see what other super large outfits we can buy to fit me. Friday is market day so we will also go there and buy some guava and ladies finger. 

Seeing the crows cawing melancholically, mother cow wandering wherever she pleases, and hearing the noise of the traffic are like being reacquainted with an old friend.