Kashmir carpet lesson

Nearly everyday since we have been here we have been diverted from our planned route with rickshaw drivers, taxis, and even touts in the street pushing us to their local handi craft emporioums. How ever many times you politely refuse their demand to visit one of these tourists traps; you still end up in one. Indians just don't listen!!! Everything is commission based, that's how it works here. In Delhi; in one such place we were escorted around an emporioum (close to the Lotus Temple) in a well rehearsed, and efficient procedure. Almost as though there were one way directional arrows marked on the floor. After you have seen one of these shops (often with wonderful names e.g Paradise Carpets), you have seen them all.

However, today we went to the other side of lake Dal (thank heavens our boat is not moored there; if lake Nageen is comparible to a sleepy village, then Dal is more like Delhi.
Lake Nageen is calm and tranquil. Back to carpets.

So our driver today took us to a Co-op carpet company, and what a pleasant surprise. Of course the salesman wanted to get a sale, and infact he really deserved it. He showed us a carpet weaver at work, and shared with us such interesting information:

Carpets are made from silk, wool, artifical fibre or a mixture of all. How to check that a silk carpet is exactly that. Pull out a fibre and light it. If it smells like burnt hair, or a feather, then it's genuine. If it melts and smells then it's artifical.

The 3 main makers of carpets are from Turkey (Marocco), Kashmir(Persia) and India. The most important thing to look for when buying a carpet (apart from colour and pattern, and material) are the types of knot. A Turkish carpet uses an 'S' knot, an Indian carpet uses a 'U' knot, and a Kashmire carpet uses a figure '8' knot. Hence it is much stronger, and harder to pull out the fibre.

Kashmire carpets come in different qualties, and that depends mainly on how many knots are (hand) tied per square inch. The knots for silk carpets vary from maximum 600 knots per square inch to 256 per sq inch. The knots for wool carpets vary from 324 knots per sq inch to 200 knots per sq inch.

Therefore it takes a loan carpet weaver 4 and a half years to weave a 6 foot by 9 foot silk carpet at 600 knots per sq inch (highest quality). The weaver in the picture is working on a top quality carpet (6ft - 4ft), and it will take him around 2 years.......8 hours a day. The photo shows a typical Moughal (windowed) design; very similar to decorations in the Taj Mahal.

How do I know all this? It's been really useful to always carry a notebook and pen; from reccommend places to visit ; noting down personal addresses etc...

And how does the weaver remember the pattern? Up until this morning I had no idea. For every carpet a detailed pattern id drawn, and from that pattern a complexed code is drawn up. similar to a book; where each line represents one line of weave in the carpet. I asked the salesman if I coulld grovel behind the weaving device, and I was rewarded by finding a 50cm coded page from 100 years ago. A good souvenir, and a very, very interesting morning.

Last blog.....I think until Leh, unless of course a gipsy in the mountains has computer and internet connection. I just don't think so.

Mughal garden Shalimar

Friday..... a quieter day. Advised not a good idea to enter town as there are religious demonstrations and srikes. This is prayer day.
Spent the morning working on plans for the next 2 weeks or so, and have decided to continue our search to see the 'real India'. So on Sunday morning it is off to live in gypsy villages in the mountains. The idea is to spend 10 days moving from village to village until we reach Leh; the capital of Ladakh. Here we hope to find the tranquilty, and silence that is difficult to find in towns and cities. The continual noise of car horns is tiring, and I mean tiring!
This afternoon walked what seemed to be half way around Lake Dal to reach the Moughal gardens. Ten roupee entrance fee, and well worth it, if only to escape the noise, and litter strewn streets. This whole area is referred to by Indians as paradise on earth. I can imagine why for those who escape Delhi and Calcutta. The gardens were packed with holidaying Indians, but for me the views of the snow capped peaks was exceptional.
Tomorrow will be last day here in Srinaga; so will visit a few temples, before packing and moving to the rustic life in the hills.

Therefore, I will have NO internet connection unti Leh.

Down Town Srinagar without guide

Thursday morning we find ourselves back in the old part of town, without guide, and feeling more relaxed, and happier to take things at our own pace. As we walk we are aware that we are objects of cuorisity to many; but within a short time we are approached by friendly Kashmires, who just wants to say' hello'. This is what we wanted!, and soon we are in the maze of back streets. Bearded muslim fanatics turn their heads as we approach, which we expected. In one of the side streets a man in his forties smiles at us and we strike up a conversation; all the time very aware that we have to keep moving. I make an excuse that we are going to buy some Chai, and straight away he invites us to visit his family nearby. Invitation kindly accepted, we follow him through narrow streets to his house.

As we approach you are aware that a few sheep are close by..... scarafice imminent. We climb up to the first floor, and he shortly returns from the kitchen with salted chai tea, and a plate of pancakes. Crossed legged we chat to him in broken English, play with his children, and meet his elderly mother. So very kind, and such a touching gesture. He informed me that we were the first Westerners he had seen in these back streets, and that our presence was appreciated. He told us that we were brave, but really wanted Westerners to come to Kashmir.

We continued our walking tour; took photos, climbed the large hill that overlooks the town to see a muslim shrine Hazrat Sultan Fort, escorted by a very friendly Kashmire woman who didn't speak a word of English.

After four hours we hailed a rickshaw. As he pulled over, an Indian soldier came over to his side shouting violently because he was parked badly. As the driver got back into his driving seat the soldier started for no reason kicking his thigh, and yelling abuse. This is how it is in Kashmir ! Beautiful scenery, friendly and open people living in a historically volatile region.

Video clip will be added when I have faster internet connection.

Old Town-Srinaga with local guide (1)

Wednesday's plan to walk around the old part of Srinagar....alone, was a bit of a failure. We obtained a local guy who knew all the back streets and the bizaar area like the back of his hand. Only problem was that he walked so fast, and wasn't eager to let us stop to meet people, and take shots.
After 30 minutes we returned by rickshaw to Nageen Lake, both feeling very frustrated.

So what happened to ruin the plan? The old part of town (referred to as Down Town) is full old delapidated wooden houses, a labarynth of narrow streets, and a number of steepled mosques, and our presence as westerners was not appreciated by the militants, and religious fanatics. Not a surprise!

In our very limited tour you felt that you were being observed, but many people wanted to make contact, but were basically afraid to do so; pyrinig eyes ever present. We were later told that the back streets we had attempted to enter were dangerous to westerners, and a situation could easily arrive from nowhere hence for the guide. We are close to Pakistan; an this fragile area is where the terrorists are eager to cause problems.
However, if you respect the people; don't push camera lenses in veiled womens faces, and be polite, then you feel safer. Of course near the mosques it is better to keep your distance when groups form to watch fanatical religious videos on large erected screens. The site of a young man without uniform, shouting and waving an AK47 outside Jamya Masjid mosque, is a clear indication; a) to get the hell out of there, and b) stay well in the open.

We will try again tomorrow, without a guide, and I'm sure we will be more successful in ' breaking the ice' with the people, religious fanatics or not.

Water lilies at dawn

At the crack of dawn Waseem the 'boat boy' was already up and about; preparing the boat for an early morning surprise (at no cost, and I guess as a gesture of apology to our strange welcoming to Srinaga).
No rain this morning as we set off from the lake's shore in great anticipation. After a few minutes tea was made, and we settled down for the half an hour journey to the sound of prayer calls. After passing under a bridge that devides Lake Nageen from Lake Dal we could see figures in the distance amongst the water lillies harvesting lotus roots.

Crossing the lake through the pearl laden Lily pads (large droplets of water suspended on their leaves); our boat was first approached by a flower seller, and shortly by a well wrapped up Kashmire on his way to the floating vegetable market with his fresh lotus roots.

What a sight to behold before 6a.m, some 40 vegetable sellers negotiating their prices, weaving their boats between themselves. Many photos taken as the sun appeared from behind the mountains. That was a special sight to see, ah! the smell of freshly cut corriander.

Lakes - Mountains - Gardens - Mosques

Tuesday..................................rain, and a day of recovery. Only ventured out in the side streets around the lake. Scavaging dogs in packs, open drains, piles of rotting waste and no sign of the mountains hidden in the low grey cloud.
Spent sometime reading travel guides, and chatting to fellow travellers , and kashmire's. All interesting, but a lot of conversation on the history of this region; the Silk Road in the north, the tensions between India and Pakistan, and the life here.

And of course, where there is water, there are boats, and for the next four or 5 days we will be living on one.

Delhi was hot, but here it's about 15 degrees, and very damp. No wonder the Kashmire's where a long baggy woollen type over dress called a 'Fairan', and when cold carry underneath it a woven willow branch basket holding a clay bowl, where slow burning willow charcoal burns slowly to provide heat. I need one of those...I have no other clothes other than the thin cottons from Delhi.

Went to sleep to the sound of more rain, and the prayers from two mosque's tannoy systems echoing across the lake. Magical!!!!

Wednesday it's a 4.30 a.m and off to visit a ........?

Not the welcome anticipated !!!!!!

After crossing into Kashmir the heavans opened; much cooler here than Delhi, and raining steadly. First impression: military everywhere, lush green vegetation, grey and drab colours, certainly completely different from Delhi.

As you approach Srinagar you cannot miss to see by the sides of the road, thousands and thousands of clean, shaped, and perfectly stacked piles of white timber wood. I have seen that shaped cut wood before, but couldn't remember from where. So curiosty got the better of me and I asked a Kashmire who said 'Canada, England and Kashmire are the main producers of....................................... wet land in the valleys, our national game. Bingo, cricket bats. The stacked wood seasoning for bats, and the saffron of Kashmire are world renowned, but I guess many associate this region with wars, carpets, and drugs; and rightly so.

The congested slow moving entry into town was noisy, wet and miserable as the stone cutters chipped a way at their headstone orders, and kitchen mortar and pestels. I just wanted to get out of this metal deathtrap, and could now start to physcially relax and plan the next moves......when suddenly the back door was flung open and a young man in his twenties jumped in, his partner doing the same at the front nearside door. Instant reaction was to grab our small bags, and then see how our driver reacted. He was lost for words. We were going nowhere. Stuck in traffic, anyhow after a threating exchange with the guy in the back who had demanded to know my nationality, and where I was staying; he finally realised that he was out numbered, and fled the scene. Strangely, not before saying 'Sorry'. Welcome to Kashmir...... this could be a very interesting visit to this mainly Muslim area.