Shopper in Ladakh

It is already end of season, and businesses in Ladakh are going away as tourists start to leave. The main bazaar has become so quiet that it is somehow, a bit odd. When the souvenirs, alibaba pants are no longer hanging onto the exterior wall of those crumbling building, Leh is exactly a ghost city.

Ladakh is just next to Kashmir, so many Kashmiris come here to make a living. And doing business is the same as being a nomad for them, they follow the tourists, June to August, Leh is perfect, and afterwards, they move to the south, mostly Goa. I am fortunate enough to be here before everything went. True that they can be very pushy, especially when every penny means something, they would try every effort to lure you into buying that extra one little thing. So, to safeguard our pockets, it is necessary to be a bit mean at times and just say ‘no, I don’t want it’.

May be because of its controversy, they like to make use of the name ‘Tibet’ to catch attention, all sorts of Tibetan handicrafts markets, ‘Lhasa Gifts’, trash or antique as you like to put it. But the true thing is, colour spectrum seems to blossom exceptionally in here. Those definite names you know about ‘blue’, i.e. cobalt, marine blue, cyan, are not enough to describe what are there.

As you walked in to a pashmina shop, your eyes could only keep looking at piles and piles of fabric, different patterns and that turquoise, is, classic. And then you could not resist but to put your hands through them, they slip and slide, so smoothly. From the back of the curtain, the shop-keeper made his entrance with a postcard on his hand, on it it’s Pangong Lake and two goats. Then he started to tell the story about how pashmina are made, which goat has the best wool for making best quality shawls. Sometimes the cheesy ones would show that trick too, how a pashmina shawl goes through a tiny ring in seconds. 

It is exactly the same as putting on a show. And I was the only audience, with a cup of cinnamon tea in my hand that he just made me.

That’s high-end customer service! And a good cup of tea never hurt =)

And it applies to all shops, either they want to keep you for longer or genuinely, they would like to have a cup of tea with an acquaintance, which is absolutely common in Ladakh.

But nothing could compare to what I am about to say, an ultimate shopping experience, lasted for three weeks. Yes, one product, three weeks.

On the 17^th day, as I walked down the street to the construction site as usual, with Hana, a very sweet Swedish girl, I again passed by a small hand-knitting shop. The samples on the window were mostly kid-sized. It was a very chilly morning and we were measuring an old derelict house nearby. Since no one live there anymore, it became a hub for the dogs, cow and Luke (a sheep) to brick-lay. The smell was so strong and we were desperate to leave. We then went to the shop, started a little chit-chatting with the ladakhi lady, with her very limited English.

By the time we leave, I asked,

‘Would it be possible for you make a large jumper for me?’

‘How long?’

(I wondered, huh… And after a few seconds I figured.)

‘Two months.’

‘O-K.’

So from that day onwards, every time I passed by, I would look for the lady, and wonder how the progress is. She rarely stays inside the shop, but have a chair out, and knit under the sun. And next to her is another lady, which runs the general food store next to the hand-knitting shop. Once when the team was working on a roof top, I could still spot her among all the ant-like-people. I tried to avoid her too, at times, I thought it was rude to ask about it, seemingly wanting to rush her. So a simple hand gesture would do the job, I did it and she wore that slightly embarrassing smile, enough said.

I was eager all the way, simply because Leh has been getting colder than I expected, I need the actual warmth. Yet, seeing her knit, and having the small secret connection with another person is, so, inexplicable. From coil of wool to a small fabric, then making them together as a larger piece of fabric. And then the sleeves, and at the end, I demanded the pockets. I cant live without them.

And today, is the 39^th day. I went to collect it around 3pm, and its there as a completed piece.

I wore it, went back to the construction site.

To my surprise, no one noticed it. Maybe the fact that it is just a simple, a bit old styled, grandpa like jumper.

But that’s what I find admirable too, I have another secret to myself.