I Really am 1 in 25 Million!

My vegetable guy in Pali Market, Bandra

Yesterday I needed to head down to the market to grab a few things before I head up to the hill station of Matheran to celebrate New Years Eve with good friends. As usual I dipped in at Sante, a quaint little store providing all of the exports goodies so often missed while here in Mumbai. I picked up some fresh cold cuts, a yummy chunk of Cambanzola, 2 larded duck breasts, a rack of lamb cap off and a few cans of artichokes. While in the store, the young boy behind the counter told me that the pepperoni sticks that my two girls love, will be coming in next week. I told him to give me a call when they come in and I would be down to get some. I paid for my items, left the store, and made my way down to my regular vegetable stand. Pali Market in Bandra is a narrow little street lined on both sides with open air stalls selling their produce and tiny little stores selling everything else  from wine to medical supplies. It would be possible really, to pick up everything you needed on this one small alley way. However on this day I only needed a few vegetables so I made my way to my 'vegetable guy.'  As usual the stall owner greeted me a big smile and his worker grabbed a metal bowl waiting for me to tell him what I wanted today. The owner asked me how I was doing and where were my girls who often accompanied me. We chatted for a bit as a chose my vegetables. His english was broken but I understood every word. I paid for my vegetables and moved on to my 'fruit guy.' I realized while dong this that I liked being part of a community where I am a regular and everybody knows me.

This is the part of India that always confuses me but makes me feel warm inside. The indian culture is all about familial relatioonships whether you are family or not. For many who have so little this is all they have but more importantly it is how they survive. There is this unique culture of trust that exists in a city of 25 million that cannot be duplicated anywhere else. Although a mumbaiker will do anything to make money, including adding a little skin tax( that added extra charge for the foreigner walking down the street) to whatever they are selling, they will also trust a customer who has no money to take the goods and pay later. As an uptight, conservative Canadian this  concept of trust is very uncomfortable because back home we really have no sense of community. Certainly, we foreigners create false  opportunities to meet new people and find things in common  but it is not innate in our culture. We do not eat, sleep and breathe community. We always carry with us a certain level of distrust. Another great example is my 'Jewellry guy' Harry. I know that sounds pretentious but another beautiful thing in this country is the availabilty of gems of all sorts for incredibly cheap prices and really,  buying jewellry here is just an investment in my future and that is what I will keep telling my husband. I was in  Harry's store, Living Jewels, recently to buy a cross pendant for my helper. She is a devout christian and I thought this would be a nice gesture. Harry showed me a beautiful diamond studded cross worth about $180. I was humming and hawing about the price not really wanting to spend quite so much. Harry, noticing my hestitance told me to take the piece home to show my husband and then decide. I said, "Really? Are you sure?"  He immediately placed the cross in a velvet box and with a smile  sent me on my way. Incredible! I order my wine from the wine shop down the street and if I  don't have any cash, that's ok they'll put it on account. Now this in itself is probably not a good thing and those of you who know me can attest to that.

Harry my jewellry guy

Yes this is really unbelievable but in a city where I often feel like I don't recognize myself because I have become so aggressive and cynical, this cultural trust makes me want to be an honest and better person and prove that a stranger's trust in me is not misplaced or abused but welcomed.