A and I went to Green Street, a very Pakistani area of London. (For football fans, yes, this is the Green Street of the Green Street Hooligans. We also walked through West Ham park today.) I was given a saree by a friend, a lovely blue saree, but she and I have very different builds, and I needed to get a blouse made to go with it. There are three parts to this outfit, a petticoat (known as many things but the easiest for me to remember is langa), a blouse (called choli), and the long material that wraps around the body, which is the saree. I had the saree and langa but needed the langa to be shortened and the choli to be made. Now, you may wonder where this is going. After all, do I really need a saree? Well, no, not unless there is a special occasion.. But, having the choli made seemed like a good reason for an outing, and A and I figured perhaps we could strike up some friendships at the tailorshop.
Of course, it was pouring rain. A and I decided to take two buses, rather than trudge through the pouring rain and arrive drenched. We hopped on the first bus. The oyster card reader wasn't working, so essentially, we rode for free. We hopped off at the appropriate stop and walked to the next bus stop, which was very nearby. Then, we waited. And waited. Ten minutes might not seem like a long time, but waiting for a bus in the rain makes it seem like an eternity. Finally, our bus came and we got on. We walked up to the top and two things became very apparent. 1) We couldn't see out the windows because they were completely foggy. 2) Everyone else on the upper deck was male. Every time that happens, I always do a double take and wonder if London has instituted gender segregated buses.
We went maybe six stops before the bus driver pulled over and announced there was something wrong with the engine. He was communicating with headquarters to diagnose the problem. And we waited. Some people got off, but A and I figured...If another bus isn't coming yet, why wait in the rain when we could wait in the dry interior of the bus. About fifteen minutes later, another bus arrived and we were able to reach our destination without too much difficulty.
We arrived at the tailor's. First of all, I'll enlighten you by telling you that "Butt" is a Pakistani name. However, it is nigh impossible not to giggle when the sign on the shop says "Butt Ladies Tailor Upstairs." I don't care how culturally sensitive you are, that is truly ironic. We walked into the shop and there was an older Pakistani man sitting there. After his "How can I help you?" I launched into my story about my reason for being there. He nodded the whole way through and then said, "I don't follow." I reiterated my saga, a bit more slowly and less detailed. "Ah, you need to go upstairs."
We go upstairs. There is another older Pakistani man working at a table. "How can I help you?" And, blah blah blah, I explain myself again. Clarifications were needed. Then he directs me downstairs to pick out the material I need for the blouse. A and I try to match the material, but couldn't decide between two. We go back upstairs and ask the tailor his opinion. I never expected to make fashion decisions based on a 65 year old Pakistani man's opinions, but hey, it's his trade. We agree on one, he tells me to get three yards, and back downstairs I go. I tell the man downstairs my choice, he measures, cuts, and hands the material. Back upstairs.
More chatting with the tailor about the details of the choli. The neckline I want, the sleeve length, the lining, and the measurements, the date it will be done, the cost, etc. He showed me an example of one he had finished making. Then, he turned to me suddenly with a concerned expression. "Do you know how to wrap saree?" I smiled and laughed. "No, but I have lots of friends who can show me." "Oh, very good. It's ok, you know. That one there is one I made for another white woman." That comment struck me as both sweet and hilarious. It was as though he was trying to reassure me that he wasn't saying I shouldn't wear a saree, he just wanted to be sure I knew how.
After we settled up, A and I left the shop and carried on walking along Green Street for a bit. We hoped to strike up some conversations but most people were busy doing their shopping for eid, the day of feasting at the end of Ramadan.
We also saw the sweetest shoes. You can't really tell from the picture, but these shoes are so little!
When my little niece Anna gets a bit bigger, she might have to get a pair of these from her crazy Auntie Hope.
We also stopped for lunch at Vijay's Chawalla All Vegetarian restaurant. I do love the variety of foods I have in London. I had aloo paratha, which is a potato filled bread sort of thing that I can't describe well but love (although spinach paratha is even better) and vegetable samosas.
To me, looking at a menu like this is exciting. I learn so much, even it's just by asking the waiter about different words. I know you all don't really need to know the details of my dietary life, but it makes me laugh to consider today:
Breakfast: Special K cereal with bananas and a cup of coffee (very American meal)
Lunch: Aloo Paratha and samosas (Very Indian)
Dinner: Fish and chips and peas (Very English)
On the way home, A and I stopped by a colleague's house. She and her husband made tea for us and also was able to give me some snapdragon seedlings for the garden! It was very nice and I also have a source to go for gardening help!
I hope you've enjoyed this long recap of my day :)
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