The National Peace Corps Association is celebrating it’s 50th birthday and a friend of mine whose service took her to India, recently went to Washington, DC for one of the many celebrations they were hosting. There she connected with Peace Corps friends and her roommate who she lived with for almost two years while serving in New Dehli the early 60′s. The celebration and reuniting with old friends got her memory going which prompted her to begin writing down some of her long forgotten experiences. I found it amazing that she could recall such vivid memories and I enjoyed this story so much, I asked her if I could share it on my blog.
Here is her piece in it’s entirety – and thank you for sharing, Sylvia.
From the time I landed in New Delhi, I was dazzled by the beautiful textiles of India. Its long history of making beautiful fabrics had resulted in a dizzying variety of materials that were a feast for the eyes and touch. The choices were wonderful. I was smitten. Much of my monthly allowance went to feeding my new mania. And it didn’t hurt that the experience of purchasing fabric had a lushness of its own.
For instance, to purchase a sari, one needed to go to a shop that specialized in saris and other fabric. Upon arrival at a shop, one was invited to be seated on soft cushions on the floor with bolsters on which to lean. Tea was ordered and array of fabrics or saris was brought out, one by one, from which we could choose.
And what choices! There were lush silks with gold metallic borders; rough cottons that washed up to be a soft clingy material that flashed different colors when one moved; finely hand woven cottons; synthetics. And the borders were as varied as the colors and fabrics. Borders were important as they defined the edges of the sari but also the trim at the end of the fabric which hung over one’s back. This end piece often told of the quality of the sari, with the most elaborate designs being the most expensive.
The material came in brilliant colors, pastel colors; busy patterns, solid colors, hand woven fabric and machine woven fabrics. And each of these choices necessitated a choice of fabric for a floor length petticoat, the base garment on which the sari was wrapped, as well as material for a choli, or short blouse that matched the sari, though often of other material. These then required a separate visit the tailor, who would measure one for the petticoat and choli and have them ready for you in a couple of days.
One of my favorite purchases was tied to one of the nicest of my memories of India. For Dewali, my roommate, Kathy and I were invited by our supervising doctor to go with him to his hometown. There his family warmly welcomed us into their home and showed us a wonderful time.
That town was famous for its hand loomed saris and while there, I purchased a royal purple, hand loomed cotton sari. It had a gold metallic woven border with a tiny detail of orange. For the choli I purchased a piece of royal purple silk with gold trim. I loved that outfit.
I sigh with pleasure today when I think of those lovely fabrics and the experience of purchasing and wearing them.
Image credit Glenna Barlow
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