Darzee tales

I’m kind of bummed cuz my stuff STILL isn’t ready at the tailors. What tailor? What stuff? A few weeks back I got two new shalwar qameez materials and I gave them to the tailor after searching for some kind of trendy and up to date ways to stitch them. I ended up subscribing to the Pakistani She Magazine. It is a Karachi based women’s interest magazine. It has some fun stuff like film reviews and fashion layouts (which help me because I am clueless about shalwar qameez fashions and I always feel so frumpy and out of it) and also some good articles dealing with women’s issues in the Pakistani context. So, anyway, I took my updated trendy self-made illustrations to my good old tailor Master Magan. To get to him, I have to drive for 30 minutes and then park somewhere and walk 15 minutes into a bazaar. I have tried other, closer places, but over the years he has proven to be the best. Anything expensive I give only to him. He works at a collective of master tailors owned by an Indian business man. The Master Tailors do the cutting, and the stitching is done in a workshop. They have embroidery, too, which is hard to find in Dubai. The whole set up makes their work very efficient and also very high quality. As everything else in Dubai has gotten to be more expensive, their stitching charges have risen as well, though their rates have always been slightly higher than average. But going to Master Magan is well worth the higher charge. So, I schlep my stuff over to Master Magan. When I arrived that day, his cutting table was a complete mess and there are some ladies standing there arguing with him. I wait patiently for my turn. When I plop my materials down on his table, he says “Can you bring these after Divali?” It’s really tight right now and you’ll have to wait.” I tell him that it is a lot of trouble for me to get here and can he just take my clothes, I don’t mind waiting a few weeks for them I knew he would be super busy because of Divali. He took my materials, noted down my instructions, and gave a date to pick up the finished suits. He was in a really grumpy mood and became exasperated with me because I don’t know all the tailoring lingo and special terms. He is usually patient about that, but this time he lets out his annoyance by teasing me a bit. No problem. Later, I tell him he is in a sour mood. I ask him if he likes sweets. I was thinking of going to the chaat and sweet shop across the street to bring him a snack or a plate of rasmalai or something. “Ah! I am diabetic,” he snaps. “Oh, I think you just need to sweeten your mood,” I say. He confesses, “Most people don’t talk to me the way you do. You are very polite. You must be employed somewhere, right?” “Yes I am a teacher,” I say. “Well, most of these ladies come in here and are very rude to me. They think they are all princesses. I have been here since 6 am. I am just really tired.” “Do you get overtime pay?” I ask. “We get nothing of the sort!” he replies. Anyhow, I finished up with him and decided that I wanted to give him a gift. I thought about it and I ended up having a mug made for him that says, “#1 Tailor: Master Magan” with a picture of a sunflower on a sunny day in the background. I have no idea if he reads English, and I suspect he is a tea drinker and never uses coffee mugs. But I just thought the mug would be kind of utilitarian and funny at the same time. Like he could keep pens and scissors in it on his table or something. Anyway, I went to him to pick up my stuff yesterday and guess what! It wasn’t ready. The place he works is usually so efficient that the single time in 3 years that my clothes weren’t ready on the collection date, I received a call informing me. This time I came in after the pick up date. The suits should have been ready. I didn’t say anything. There wouldn’t have been a point. I gave him the mug anyway and just laughed. Anyway, now I have to go back again! The long drive and the long walk, ugh! Usually I go with a friend who is interested in getting chaat or Gujarati thali with me for dinner, or I take the nanny and Baby D. So I am gonna have to arrange to go out there AGAIN! Aagh! Anyways, I have been spending too much money this month cuz guess what else I did in the bazaar? I got another two joras to have stitched. I really don’t wear shalwar qameez very often anyway. I am just wasting money. Anyhow, one is an expensive Pakistani made dark blue cotton with chikan kaari on it. The other is an inexpensive daily wear Indian suit. I chose it because even though the suit was just a weave with a block print design, it has a really pretty dupatta. I got a suit for the nanny, too. She picked a cotton one with a chiffon dupatta. The expensive blue suit I am gonna bring to Master Magan after I shrink it. My other suit and the nanny’s suit, I am gonna give to this new tailor I discovered near to my house. I am just trying him out. I already made some night gowns with him. He is Pakistani. He keeps asking where I am from (he thinks somewhere in Pakistan) but I never reveal the truth because he will then proceed to overcharge me. Hah hah I am such a trickster, he was like, hmmm, your style of speaking is from such and such place, so you must be from there! Am I right, am I right? Well, let’s say he is about a few hundred thousand miles wrong! I can tell by his accent that he is from Gujranwala. Heh heh heh.
Anyways, so now I have to make a big plan to go back to Master Magan. Maybe on Thursday---oh wait, scratch that, it’s Thanksgiving ain’t it? I just dunno. It is so hard to find free time and it’s hectic taking the baby. *Sigh* I’ll post pics if the suits come out nice.
I have some weird and crazy stories about tailors. In Oman, one was harassing me over the phone and I had to threaten to call the police because of it. That is common over here. The tailors sometimes get lonely and try to harass you for fun. That has happened to friends of mine, too. I know that sounds so crazy, but it is true. No one ever gives their real names to the tailor. Everyone always gives a man’s name, i.e. husband or brother. I didn’t realize about this when I first arrived in the region and the guy must have thought I was being a little too friendly or something. I dunno. I use my real info with Master Magan though cuz I trust him. Anywayz, another time, also in Oman, I went to this one tailor who was from this particular place in Pakistan. Then I discovered this tailor near to my apartment and I noticed that he was from the same place as the other guy. I mentioned to him that I had another tailor who was from the same place and his shop is in neighborhood X. I thought, well, Muscat is such a small place and communities are tight here. He must know the guy. Well, out of nowhere his face turned red and he puffed up in anger. He started screaming and told me this long long story in a shouting voice. Something like “I HATE that bastard! He stole that shop from me! You know that shop??? It is MYYY shop! He is sitting in MYYY shop, that thief! He is my cousin and do you treat your family that way? I am gonna kill that sister-f…” I mean he went totally crazy, he was cussing and yelling and I thought he might hurt me. I just shook my head and said “really, aha, really,” the whole time somehow escaped with my life. That was scary!
Anyways, the world of buying and stitching materials is a big part of life over here. I make pajamas, work clothes, shalwar qameezes, jalabiyyas, and also get ready made stuff altered fairly regularly. I had a high learning curve when I arrived. Despite the big headache it can be on occasion, that is one aspect of being here that I will miss when I leave the region. Though it is an *adventure* sometimes it sure is great to have clothes stitched to fit your exact shape and size and be able to play fashion designer and create your own clothes.