Tickly Nose and Pit Looms Galore

Today was the first time that I finally got to see how woven cotton rugs are woven and prepared for the world market. Lets just say that I have a whole new appreciation for the proccess and a very tickly nose!

After a 2 1/2 hour drive on the insane roads that include dodging buffalo, motercycles and everything imaginable we finally made it to the town of Panipat. Home of the cotton woven rugs. I had heard in my upbringing the history behind the rugs and of the said pit-looms but never did I get to experience the complex nature that goes behind the process...nor the effort involved in each and everyone.

Firstly they have to set up the looms which makes brain surgery look easy. Once the loom are set they start to use a series of foot petals to operate the weave of the loom while they throw a woodle vessle called the shuttle back and forth. Not only does the operator need to know the pattern which will change with each passing buyer but they also have to know the correct sequence of colors, length and width of each rug. All the while they are doing this the cotton fibers flying through the air is so thick that your nose tickles and hair goes white with all of the lint in the air. I was truely humbled by the experience and now have a huge appreciation for the art behind making these rugs. When I asked the owner of the company whether he had personally tried to make the rugs in the pit loom and he just shook his head and said that he could not do it...and in effect was fired from his position. At least I admire the fact that he had tried!

Jess

Back on the road again

Yay! I made it back to India. I seriously thought the last time that I left here in September of 2010, would be my last...yet here I am again. And this country despite its poverty, dirt and intensly complicated culture has won my heart as I mark my 19th trip to India.

What makes this place so great is the culture. It is so complex and fascinating that everywhere you look there is something new to be learnt. For example there are approximately 20 different languages in this country and while all of them sound very similar to my Western ear and yet apparently most are unrecognizable to one another. As disimilar as one would find French and English.

As a woman, having gone to a persnipity all girls school (seriously who names a school Miss Edgars & Miss Cramps?), and having been brought up in a western culture that offers a lot of rights...justifyable fought for by generations of woman. I sometimes have to put aside my western thinking and open my mind to the differences of the culture I find myself surrounded in. Today, I met a woman who is involved in the setup of an arranged marriage of her newphew. It is not a new subject to me, something that fascinates me and yet everytime I think about it I can't possibly imagine what it would be like to be in that situation. I have to remind myself that it is the norm here and that I am the abnorm so to speak... and yet I just can't get past it. I mean how would I fare if my parents set me up? Would they do a good job? DO they know me well enough?...am I in a position to say anything being 36 and single...no probably not...however, it still fascinates me. I don't think I could tolerate sitting through a meeting because the uncle didn't agree on my caste even though technically it was the same level but different state...nor could I tolerate being asked if I cooked and cleaned or did house keeping for that matter. One vendor I met said he interviewed 40 women! (strangely the same guy who was trying to get me to pass a quality issue without seeing it even once) What about dowries. Do I see that as protection money or buying a husband. I am so confused on this issue and the more I ask questions about it the more confusing it becomes! On the other hand I tried to describe dating and wondered if I was making any progress on the other side of the equation.

And yet all the people I have met here are in extremely SEEMINGLY happy mariages. They become a family unit that they take pride in and that's that. Yesterday marked a special holiday where women fast 24 hours for their husbands for good luck in their family mariage and life. Of course there are no equivalent days for men and I have to ask myself why? Why do the women have to sacrifice so much and yet appear to hold so much pride. I know there are many more stories to oncover here both in the pro/con side...but it really makes me wonder.

Jess