Back in Kerala, we try and slow down time. Only a few days remain before our eminent departure. It feels good to be back at Sebastian’s grandmother’s home, our headquarters throughout the trip. We spend time sun tanning on the roof, enjoying delicious meals, and tying up loose ends. We visit local shops to purchase last minute Indian goodies before returning home. Our first stop is Chips, a store specializing in a slue of sugary candies, fried fruits and vegetables, and spicy, crunchy puffed bits with peanuts known as mixture. Walking into the store, I am bombarded with the sweet, enticingly scrumptious smell of freshly fried bananas cooking in the front window. I stock up on several bags on this salty, flat chip, as well as different kinds of mixture and India’s infamous cashews. I can’t resist buying some ladu, my new favorite treat, as well as caramel covered peanuts coated in sesame seeds. Two steps out the door and my self-control wanes. I break open a bag and start nibbling, taking pleasure in the deliciously addictive snacks. It is impossible to eat just one.
Next stop is the spice store. I have come to love Keralan food so much that I decide to learn how to cook my favorite dishes. Surrounded by stacks of seasonings, I feel overwhelmed by the countless array of choices. Luckily, Alice Auntie helps me select all the essentials. Coriander and cardamom, vibrant orange turmeric, tiny brown sticks of cloves, sweet smelling cinnamon, and plump black pepper corns. I load up on nutmeg, my new favorite, as well as dried red chili peppers, skinny twigs of vanilla, and the adorable shaped starinas. The anxiety of going home and not being able to eat Indian food lessens, as I exit the store with a bursting bundle of spice.
In a spontaneous decision, Sebastian and I visit a local fabric store specializing in custom-made women’s garments. At first reluctant, I soon decide to get my very first salwar komeez, the other traditional Indian ceremonial dress aside from the well-known sari. I casually begin looking at packages of different color fabrics and embroidery, unsure of what to choose. Numerous salespeople start flooding the counter with all kinds of materials. I narrow it down to blue and request something pretty but with a modern flair. I finally find the perfect one –teal blue over midnight black with sequined paisleys. One of the young girls leads me into a private room where my measurements are taken. I am asked a myriad of questions regarding the design, ranging from the kind of collar I want to the length of the pants. I choose the type of sleeve, the kind of lining, placement of the zipper and every other imaginable feature. Of course it would not be complete without accessories, commonly called fancy, so I pick out a set of earrings and matching necklace and dazzling bangles. We are informed the salwar will be ready later that day and all for a mere forty dollars!
Our last stop is the Keralan government store, SMSM, which exists solely on the basis of selling for the profit of the city. It is a huge building, bursting with a variety of handcrafted goods, ranging from twenty-ton elephants statues to sandalwood key chain rings. They sell carved wooden pieces, vases and dining ware made of bronze and silver, oil paintings and sculptures, and brass figurines. This is my last opportunity to shop, so I make sure to get any remaining souvenirs for my long list of family and friends. While perusing the great room of artifacts, I am unable to resist buying myself a few more items native to Kerala handicraftsman, such as over the shoulder cloth bags, a incense holder, a hand-painted miniature elephant, and decorative pillow covers. A few more bangles, some colorful scarves, a hookah and I am all set. Out of money and out of time.
Within a month, I purchase enough items to transform my eating, dressing, and living habits. I have enough Bindi’s to last a year and sufficient spices for a few tasty meals, new jewelry in every possible color and several boxes of Indian coffee. I have enough crafts to redecorate my apartment and numerous boxes of incense so I never forget the smells here. The sadness I feel about leaving lessens with each new acquisition, as I now have so many reminders of this extraordinary country. Armed with all my new authentic purchases, I am able to modify my New York City life with some Indian flair.
