Shopping Shenanigans

Sunday morning dawned bright and early, and after Skyping home for a good half-hour, we headed out to Gandhi Bazaar to finally do some wedding shopping.

As I’ve mentioned, my cousin is getting married next weekend; Indian weddings are elaborate affairs, and I needed at least two new, grand outfits for the occasion.

So after breakfast and a Skype session, Mother Dearest, my grandmother, and I piled into an Auto and went to Ladies Wear House, a sari shop in Gandhi Bazaar.

After perusing a few items, we decided to visit Sneha Silks. Stepping through the glass doors, we were greeted with rows and rows of bright silk saris. I could feel the air conditioning blowing against my skin. We stepped up to the counter, and a man began pulling saris off the shelves.

Every-day saris, grand saris, saris with gold embroidery, saris with gemstones and saris with tassles. Saris in teal and red and green and pink and orange and purple. Even double colored saris. The attendant unfolded every sari with a whirl, as if he were revealing a masterpiece. And many times, those saris were an exquisite work of art. We looked at hundreds of saris, holding them against our bodies and peering at the delicate designs.

A couple of hours later, our wallets several thousands of rupees lighter and our hands full with shopping bags, we made it back home.

But we only stopped to put our bags down and grab a bite to eat, and then we were out the door to scour the complex for bangles and bindhis and petticoats and more.

The sun had set by the time I finally found my second outfit and we had bought bangles and petticoats and given material to the blouse-tailor.

And I still need to find some green leggings and a pair of cute shoes.

I love shopping. I can find deals and try on clothes all day long. But today’s shopping shenanigans wore me out.

Later that evening, my mother’s cousin and his new bride came to visit.

On a side note, I have so many relatives, that sometimes I feel like I’m at least distantly-related to half of this city.

I might still have some aunts that I haven’t met yet.

Anyway, I got to meet my mother’s cousin and his wife, who works for a Civil Engineering firm in Bangalore. She works 50 hours a week, from 9 in the morning to 7 in the evening, and then she has to commute home. Regardless, she seemed excited that she only had to work 5 days a week.

How in the world can you be excited when you already have a 50 hour work week?

Even at work, the people here keep incredibly long hours; they don’t goof around – although they do take quite a few coffee breaks – and they only get paid around 10,000 rupees (less than $250) a month.

All I can say is, if there are so many people willing to work so hard, for so long, for so little pay, it’s no wonder so many jobs are being outsourced.

Because I definitely would not appreciate a fifty hour work week; I got tired from just a day of shopping.

The Indian work ethic makes me feel incredibly lazy, sometimes. 

-June 12th