Bangles in all colours and sizes in Jaipur
There is no shortage of shops stocked from floor to ceiling with beautiful objets in Jaipur. The city is even set up in a way that technically, each road that’s named a “bazaar” is designated for a certain type of goods. Although people are not necessarily adhering strictly to that rule hundreds of years later, for the most part, we found Bapu Bazaar to be exactly what it was supposed to be – full of textiles shops, with jewelry stands scattered throughout.
It must have been the heat that overcame me, but after a long day wandering around the city exploring, I suggested walking along this particular bazaar to scope out the goods. I should’ve known better – bargaining is a mind game in which I clearly lack practice, so a refreshed mind would’ve been helpful. We stopped first at a jewelry stand full of bangles. The old vendor, spotting his tourist prey, quickly shooed away the Indian ladies poring over his box of bangles, and ushered me to look. As he began talking to me jovially, his hands also deftly clapped about 15 (or more!) thick lac (lacquered) bangles around my wrist. I couldn’t edge a word in to stop his eagerness, as Alex and I both looked helplessly at my arm being weighed down by bangles in all colours. They were beautiful, and in the end, I chose 3 different colours to stack. Price negotiated down: 25%. Shame, but I loved the bangles, and in between all the struggling to remove the growing pile on my wrist, and the conversation of “no no no no no no more!”, I couldn’t do math properly to ask for a good price.
You think that’s embarrassing? There’s more.
Next up – a shop full of “pashminas”. Real pashminas are hard to find, expensive, and very good quality. I spotted a fake pashmina, or just a pashmina to us Westerners, hanging outside the shop, and touched it to see what the material felt like. A man quickly swooped down on me and practically pushed me into the shop, “just to look”. It was Rs.400 (about $10), the one I had looked at, and I shook my head, deciding that I (legitimately) did not like the selection of colours. As we began walking out, the vendor yelled, “200! 100! 50!!!!!” I continued shaking my head, because I really didn’t like the colours, but Alex and I exchanged bewildered glances like, “WTF, 50?!?!?!”
We didn’t make it very far, because then I was caught up by another pashmina hanging outside this very same shop. Price quoted on this one? Rs.3500 ($75ish?). I shook my head vigorously, wanting to leave. Forget this shizzie, what kind of price is that in India?! As predicted, he started going down in price, all the while talking about colours, sending his lackeys to fetch more, pulling more pashminas off the wall of pashminas from behind him, showing me different colours and patterns, opening up the ones with designs so I can see them, chatting me up, putting them round my neck – basically, creating chaos in my head. I really did like these shawls, but the problem was, there was no measuring stick to see what price was reasonable – especially after this man’s little stint of reducing his price by 87.5% previously. In the end, my math skills, along with common sense, were drained out of my head completely by the badgering and the never ending flow of conversation, and I made a random offer that still felt a little high, but the deed was done. Best way to describe my expression and sentiment as we emerged from the shop: shell-shocked.
What’s worse, the next shop, I got pulled in with the owner telling me I bought “fake” pashminas from his neighbour, and he was selling “real” ones for Rs.400. Feel! Feel the quality difference! I don’t think he thought his strategy through, because with that kind of news, instead of wanting to buy from him, I wanted to crawl into a hole and die.
Luckily, back at the hotel, the owner informed me I could never buy “real” pashminas for that cheap – not possible (and Wikipedia also confirmed this suspicion). Plus, after checking out the government-sponsored fixed price shop, I now know what a real pashmina looks and feels like! (Ladies: not as soft as we thought – more woolly than anything else. I actually liked the silk-pashmina blend more…figures. Still feels light and luxurious though!)
Lesson learned: go to the government shops first to scope out prices, get a good night’s sleep, and then venture into the bazaars.
Beautiful umbrellas are everywhere in Jaipur – ideas on what to do with them?
