Monthly Archives: December 2011

life at Gandhi Ashram

unpacking-I forgot all about the giant string ball.

Gandhiji’s room, Gandhi Ashram, Ahmedabad.

my last day in India. up early for a walk through the old city before the streets were packed. lovely old buildings and narrow walkways- the neighborhoods are called pols; each with its own distinction.

my last breakfast in India was at the 110 year old Chandravilas restaurant. I had fafda (above) made from chick pea flour and dipped in sauce. a peek into the kitchen.

now this is what I call breakfast. I would travel each morning to the most dreamy outdoor cafe to have it. the idli were made by angels from heaven; fluffy and light. perfectly ripe fruit, sweet lime juice, and tea poured over a sprig of mint in my cup. all served by young men perfectly […]

it just depends how hungry you are as to what you will eat. grim, but got me there.

sadly am leaving too soon to catch this premiere…

picked up loads of new lungis, including some in very rustic, heavier weaves from northern India, below.

I have an obsession for Indian metal buckets. I spotted these in a Jain temple.

being alone in a new city where you don’t speak the local language could feel daunting, but most often in India little miracles happen along the way to make things feel homey. case in point – I was somewhat distracted as I walked out to the street to hail a rick. this one stopped for […]

people surely love to have their picture taken. sometimes when communication is awkward, I ask to take their photo, and the language barrier is immediately gone. other times, some people have asked me-the man with the broom was not to be dismissed until I had gotten his portrait to his liking.

a sampling of some auto rickshaw interiors. also known as three wheelers, ricks, tuk-tuks, or most commonly referred to as autos, not to be confused with an actual car…

hangin’ with the shiny little temple

above my lunch table : Bollywood videos

room 201-home away from home

perfume shop back of counter : ambience of an opium den with red light blubs and the heady scent of incense and sandalwood. look in your next shipment for little sandalwood sachets to keep your khadi fresh and exotic…

a few of the many men and women who have patiently put up with me tearing their khadi shops apart.

new wool blankets

new wool shawls.

sneak peek : spring 12 block printed dupattas. use as a beach sarong or a big scarf.

I saw a lot of this around the city, and assumed that they were warps being dyed. only when I saw these spools did I realized that they were kite strings.

the gentleman who supplies our rolling pins.

another merchant in the old city. his trimmings shop is over 100 years old, started by his grandfather. situated on a street of stalls full of sparkles, it is like a little museum full of everything you would need to guild the lily.

banyan salesmen

improbably, I found my favorite brass merchant (front left) from a past flea market, here at his friend’s shop in the old city. some treasures bought here he is again, with his brother. we spent a good part of the morning on his back terrace discussing things and having tea. spruced up now to escort […]

collection of Indian trophies

snapped from the auto:

spotted on a truck at a road side tea stop.

one of many pay phones.

the children of the village:

weaver in banyan and lungi crochet doorway hanging family in front of spool rack family with unwound skeins weavers have a late afternoon chat with Babanaa who organizes the group

the weavers in this village get spun and dyed yarns from other neighboring points. women do the job of unwinding the skeins of yarn onto spools, using spinning wheels made from old bicycle wheels. threading the spools onto a rack, the weaver makes the warp 12″ at a time. weaving some brown napkins which we […]

a one-day journey to small khadi weaving area in Southern India. stopping after lunch to fix a fuse and make sure the horn worked super wide loads on the road village homes