MARKET

I visited the Market a few days ago. I will keep my comments on the thoroughness of Matt’s style of shopping to myself. I suppose those who know him know what I mean. Besides the experience of actually shopping, the Market was a profound cultural experience.

First off if you have ever been to outdoor markets in Mexico or South America, you have a vague idea of the starting point for a market in India, or at least this market in Derha Dun. The sea of people and the mixture of smells combined with the many layers of texture and a riot of colors make this market a complex kaleidoscopic experience… I know right??

First of all the shops are one right after another like a mall in the U.S. but each one is much smaller. The roads that create allies and walk ways are the standard one lane width, but in some places there are motor bikes and mopeds parked on the side of the road.

What, you didn't know that Santa wears a turban and rides a motor scooter in India...

There are many carts in places right in front of the shops which narrow the already narrow road. Through into the mix the scores of people passing by the shops in both directions, and the people on the mopeds and motorcycles and the occasional car and what you get is a chaotic, and exhilarating walk through a tucked away corner of India. You cannot stand still for very long in a place like this. Why?? Because you are white. And in this place, white is the color of money, and the beggars know it. I saw a BMW and a man with no teeth and a couple of women with iPhone’s along with a woman with one leg begging for anything from the vendors and her three boys who, I would guess were ages two, four and six, tagging along behind her.

This is a picture of the woman who only had use of her left leg. The boys who followed her around are the three just past the apples in this picture. I did not realize her situation until she passed by the shop I was standing in and I could see her useless stump. There were several others in no better condition but I could not bring myself to take a picture of it.

Cows meander through the market as if window shopping. They stop in the middle of the road and force everyone to go around. It is almost as if they know people won’t do anything to them so they don’t care. Speaking of cow there are many sections of the Market that smell like cow, and many places where the cows leave little presents on the streets for everyone.

I simply had to get this guy's photo. Not sure I have ever seen a poor beggar with such a slick looking and well kept beard. India is a land of paradox.

Matt did end up getting at least part of what he wanted to get, I got some good photos. That was my first trip to the market. Knowing what is there I will try to get back to see if I can find some great little treasures.

Fragrance

I am fascinated by the affect that smells can have on us; where they can bring us. Have you ever walked into your parents home on Christmas Eve and been taken back to your childhood by the smells of the home when you walked in? One of my college roommates still remembers the smell of a particular girl at school whenever he smells the scent of vanilla perfume, or vanilla anything really. There is the smell of fresh cut grass that reminds me of summer. The smell of the road right after a mid-summer rain storm is another. The smell of a fire in the fireplace or at a campsite makes me think of comfort and warmth after being cold. Each of these and countless others brings us all back to a place in our lives, perhaps good perhaps bad, but the scent... sends us somewhere.

These last couple of mornings I have left my apartment a little earlier than usual for school orientation. When I walked outside I was greeted by some familiar smells. I smelled the morning dew. I smells the fresh crisp morning air. I smelled the smell that I remember smelling on those early days of September when I would be going back to school. It reminds me of the nervousness of seeing students and friends I had not seen all summer long. It reminds me of cutting up paper grocery bags to make book covers for them. It reminds me of heavy backpacks. It reminds me of football practice, classes, lunchrooms, fire drills, homework... it reminds me of the first day of school. What a coincidence I am in orientation for my first day of school... post grad to be exact.

It has been many years since I rode my bike to school, I may be doing that again (out of choice) The backpack is now a shoulder bag, there is no gym class or study halls, some classes have like fifty people in them, some possibly more, there are a ton of things that are different. The one thing that is the same is the early morning September smell from years ago. I am thirty three years old, I am pursuing a Master's degree but this morning, for a brief moment, I was eight years old on the first day of school.

I wonder sometimes, when smells remind Jesus of the cross. I wonder what smells remind Jesus of a fire side denial. What was going through Peter's mind (as a fisherman) when he set foot out of the boat. When Jesus taught in the temple courts during the week before his crucifixion was he reminded about the time he was left there by his parents? When he was teaching there at twelve years old was he thinking of the time he would turn over tables? Are there smells that make Jesus think of me? The smell of denial, of compassion, of forgiveness. If Jesus were to "smell" my life, where would that take him? Can we say, "our lives are a Christ-like fragrance rising up to God..." as 2Corinthians talks about? What do "smell like to God? What does God think of when he catches a whiff of your life??

Just a thought...