Travelogue

Getting my shoes fixed at a local shoemakers shop in Patan, Nepal. 20 Minutes later, the only recently bought but already broken pair of Merrell shoes looked better than ever.

“Was ist denn der Hauptunterschied zwischen einem Schuhmacher in Deutschland und hier in Nepal”, wollte Deepak wissen, der mich auf seinem Motorrad mitgenommen hatte zum Schuhmacher in Patan. Na, am meißten vielleicht, dass unsere Schuhmacher nicht mehr auf dem Boden sitzen. Und vielleicht auch, dass der Beruf des Schuhmachers am aussterben ist. Und vielleicht auch, dass bei uns eine 20-minütige Reparatur inklusive komplett Politur und Aufarbeiten der Schuhe nicht nur 60 €urocent kostet? Schumacherpreise sind am unteren Ende der Preisschere in diessem Land. Manche Dinge sind fast so teuer wie bei uns in Europa, vor allem Güter und Dienste, die sich die Oberschicht und die Besucher leisten wollen. Andere bleiben bezahlbar für die Allgemeinheit, als Besucher bezahlt man dann eine Art Ausländer-Aufschlag, siehe meinen Besuch beim Friseur, für den ich fast das 10-fache bezahlt habe dessen, was man im Allgemeinen dafür bezahlt. Oder die Taxipreise, die für uns gerne mal ein ungenau vielfaches dessen kosten, was ein Nepalese bezahlen würde.

Eines allerdings war genau gleich: Die Art, sich über den Schuh zu beugen, den Leim einzustreichen in den vorher aufgerauhten Spalt zwischen Sohle und Leder, einen Faden mit einem scharfen Spatel abzutrennen, der Geruch in dem kleinen Raum, die gelbbraune Farbe, all das erinnerte mich an den alten Schuster in meinem Heimatdorf.

This was not only the cheapest but probably also the best haircut I ever had. This one took 50 minutes including a full back rub that almost had osteopathic qualities. He charged 200 Nepalese Rupees, that’s 2,30 in €uro, or 3,20 in US$.

How much do I trust a stranger? Judge yourself, this guy had his full blown scissors stuck into my nostrils to perform whatever he considered necessary.

Documentation courtesy Helmut O.

More from the world of hairdressing in an older post (german only) “Eine Weltkarte der Friseure“

Why would it be normal to go and dance Salsa in Hamburg, Berlin, Amsterdam or Cologne but not in Almaty, Kazakhstan or in Taipei, Taiwan? Still, it always surprises me to land in such, well, remote places (from my euro-centric point of view) and be able to walk into places called “Cuba”, or “Olala” and watch dancers spinning away to Latino rhythms as if it were the most natural thing to do so. As in former waves of this kind of international “Tropical Fever” our decades Salsa craze is spreading world wide – but this time deeper and wider at the same time. Is it the Internet? Is it the comparably cheap travel costs for salsa aficionados carrying the virus into the remotest places?

Wherever you go, any bigger city in the world will have places, dancers – and teachers. And ever so often, the smaller the number of aficionados in one place, the lesser the number of teachers, down to a one-city-one-teacher ratio. If they are good, then fine, they clone their style, cuban, puerto-rican, L.A. or New York or anything in between or any other funny creole-isation. If they are not good, well, they clone their style as well.

In the “Olala” a french restaurant in Taipei offering Salsa on some days in the week, the teacher had been good. A crowd of dedicated dancers flicked away puerto rican style, slick figures, ladies turning stylish, the man leading them along the imaginary lines on the floor. Not my cup-of-rum, still, nice to watch. One lady stuck out, as she was the only non-asian on the dance-floor by the time we arrived and also the only black person in the room. My colleagues from Radio Taiwan and I settled for some drinks at the bar, watching the dancers, chatting after a week of intensive work together.

Suddenly, she lost one of her creoles. Picking them up, saving them from the feet of the dancers was the natural thing to do – and also a fine occasion to talk to her, once the song was over. Turned out, she was from Johannesburg, living in Taipei for no particular reason other than enjoying the place and having work to do: she was one of the Salsa teachers. How she is transforming shy chinese into exalted latin dancers she never revealed – but from having danced with her I assume it was by her special kind of cultural osmoses, infecting them with both the latino rhythms and south african life-loving spirits. Worked fine for me, I had a wonderful evening.

In der neuen Lettre ist ein schöner Artikel über den Brasilianischen Fußball. Am meisten berührt hat mich das an den Anfang gestellte Zitat von Tom Jobim:

Brasilien ist nichts für Anfänger

Jobim selber war absoluter Brasilien-Profi. Auf seinen Spuren in Rio zu wandeln, heißt, sich an die besten, die schönsten, die ruhigesten und die intensivsten Stellen zu begeben.

Im Botanischen Garten hatte er seinen ganz eigenen Ruheort, Inspirationsquelle für viele seiner unsterblichen Lieder.