The Gorgeous Uzbek girl

Sometimes an embroidered piece of fabric that has been stitched into shape isn’t great. The zipper might pull ripples to the fabric, like waves on an ocean.

Other times the pouch doesn’t become a shape, rather sags like a bag of wrinkled potatoes.

Then I have two options: to take it apart or to keep going until it becomes pretty. By adding beads or strings or pom poms.

Now, I dislike pom poms, except the variety made in Bolivia. There the people in the high Andes mark their llama’s with colorful elongated tassels.

The wandering mind goes to India

My mind wanders and attaches itself to thoughts like: ‘What is original? Which technique do I like? And lo and behold, my mind takes me to India. There I walk through the dried-up streets. Where sand forms little puffs of clouds when my feet clad in local shoes touch the ground. Frames of doors are painted pink and mint green. Woodwork framing the entrances of homes is ancient, elaborate with round curves, pointy pinnacles, and cut-outs. Soon Diwali will have me awake all night. Crackers and fireworks and screaming wild pigs will make the night go from soundless to mayhem. But I don’t mind.

It is vital to discover the new town I am in now. Trying the food I order is equally important. Unknowingly, I settle for the only item that the shy waiter offers me. Sitting outside, facing a green murky barav, a rectangular pond with steps alongside where people fetch water from. A thepla or aloo paratha lands on the rickety table. After one bite, my senses go into overdrive; such is India. The deliciousness that reaches me is abundant; meanwhile, my toes hold a thread to create tension.

Bundi became one of my favorite towns in Rajasthan. The first time I made a lifelong Parisian friend, the second time I took my parents there. The third time I cycled into town and stayed a week in temperatures around 50 C. degrees.

The toe part is the reality right now. Inspiration popped up. I am winding a thread around several other threads. I am not sure where this action came from. Did I envision the jeweler seller who made me a necklace? Was my mind imagining his method? Would he wound yarn around a tight bundle of threads just like he did to make that very necklace? Or did nature inspire me?

The coming together of unusual folks

The pouch is finished and laying on my table while I write this. I see a zipper wobbly pressed between two layers of green band. And this reminds me of something else again.

At a place in Spain where Geo and I stayed we made a walk into an unusual settlement. According the person we stayed at, the people living there were all ‘hippies’. In my keen observation, the people resembled a very different category. Many appeared mentally unstable. Plenty had an inability to stay clear from alcohol. Others were rejected by society. Some would beg at supermarkets, others steal to get their next dose of whatever it was they needed. Among this mixed group were some genuine ‘hippies’. They were trying to live a down-to-earth life. They aimed to avoid being bothered by government and laws.

Geo and I stopped at certain people’s tents or shacks. To talk to them or to look at what they were selling. When we looked at someone’s embroidery, I quietly smirked when I heard a voice behind me say: “Embroidery!? No one needs that!” It was our host, kind as she is, lacking some sensitivity too (as she has seen me embroidering). Our host is a woman we met once on our travels. Geo came over to cut a patch of eucalyptus trees at the place that is now her home.

The namesake

Our next meeting is why the pouch is named ‘The Gorgeous Uzbek Girl’. While we walk, I am stopped in my tracks by a thick waft of incense. Such familiar smell makes me want to get to the source. While our host found the smell unpleasant and even a little evil, she much rather had walked on. The dear woman has her own set of rules, but nevertheless followed us together with her dog.

Geo and I dashed to where the smell began, went straight at the door and knocked at it. Our host tiptoed behind us, because ungodly behavior can extract curiosity. With our host looking over our shoulders some distance away, I hoped her eyesight was excellent. Because the door was opened and not just by someone. The door of the house was unbolted by pure radiance!

One of the reasons of traveling is meeting other people, seeing differences and learn without judging. Well, I had to judge now. The person who stood in front of me was of such a beauty that I fell silent. Stopped in my tracks as one does when a herd of deer passes in front of your eyes. A mouth that drops when entering a pyramid for the first time. Feet that are glued to the path when seeing a desert opening up in front of you. Pure sunlight stood in the door opening. She had stickers applied to her face, spoke a dialect from Germany and had some friends surrounding her.

While Geo talked to this gorgeous girl, I took in the new environment. I just watched without attaching much thought to it. The Uzbek woman was a pure perfection of what feminine beauty is. These tiny stickers pasted all over her face were absolutely not needed. She neither had Asian set eyes nor almond shaped. She wasn’t plump nor shapeless. One would never tell where she originated from. Striking as a Bollywood movie starlet and kind acting like, perhaps the reindeer nomads in Uzbekistan. Born in Uzbekistan, she had emigrated to Germany with her parents, her accent was flawless. I barely was capable of tearing my eyes loose from her beauty.

Than I saw her two male friends. They were of another category, their faces and bald heads fully tattooed, both chubby and bare chested. They handed us a whole package of Goloka Nag Champa incense. “Here, for you, this is what we burn”, the guys said. A cloud of smoke meanwhile circulating and wrapping us. We were now smelling of heavenly Indian odors too. These young people were maybe practicing an ancient ritual, picked up from their travels to India? What it was I do not know, except that it was something young travelers do.

Who knew such tiny encounters would have such impressions? But then, beauty is my driving force. That was the reason I started embroidery.

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