The Bangler

Two days ago I wrote about the Central Market Souk and it’s exquisite blend of new, old, and it’s marvelous lights. What you didn’t read about was the man that makes the market unique. He may not give light to it, but he gives this Souk spirit and a lot of flare. His name is… The Bangler.

Ok, well, I gave him that name. His real name is Ali. But for the sake of this story he will be furthermore called… The Bangler.

The Bangler is a quiet man. A man of focus and repose. His creations delight the hearts of women and children all over the world, while also allowing men the satisfaction of saying, “Yeah, honey. I picked that out for you.” And his creations are made with love… and weird wooden tools that have some of the most uncreative names on the planet. But alas, sitting criss-cross applesauce he weaves and hammers away on his carpet of enlightenment while shoppers pass by to casually say, “Where you from? Pakeestan, sir?”

Oh, if only they knew. The Bangler is no Pakistani folks. His home is very far from such a place. In a distant land you will find The Bangler’s home. It is called… India. Wait, just looked on a map, definitely right next to Pakistan. Well, he’s not Pakistani, he’s Indian. I don’t call you Canadians Americans do I? Haha. Ignorant.

Anyway, I sat with The Bangler for a whole 10 minutes while he sculpted, what he calls, a bangle. Weird that his jewelry and the nickname I gave him are so similar. Again, anyway, as I sat there and watched him take ordinary colorful soft tree wax and turn it into a colorful hardened tree wax I was like, “WOW!” No really, it’s harder than it looks.

First off, he’s got hot coals just chilling there in a metal tray, designed to heat the tree wax that he will soon mold and form to create his fine jewelry. He takes a block of wax, strips off a small sliver, then plops it on the heated tray. He then straightens and flattens it over the tray using something called a “frame”. Once the wax is long and flat he then wraps it around an object called the “wooden rounder”. Stick with me. I know these names are a bit foreign. After rounding the flat waxy bangle, he drops it smoothly onto the hot tray once again and stamps it on the side with something called, wait for it… the “wood handle”. Ooooooooh. A few more rubs with a clothe that looks as old as the bangle maker himself and he was done. The Bangler had made his bangle.

One of the beautiful things about The Bangler, however lovely his creations, was that he was not the first. The Bangler, a.k.a. Ali, a.k.a. Central Market Magic Maker, is actually The Bangler Junior. This man from India, the same land as his father – specifically Rajasthan, India – was taught all of these skills of the trade by his father before him. He calls it his caste work. He wakes up every day at 4 am and heads to the Central Market to make his tchotchkes and doodads, and every day at 7 pm he heads home to his warm bed. He has done this for 2 years now. And although I cannot know his heart, and will not comment on any issues of social justice, he looks and sounds at peace with his work and he takes pride in the skills his father has taught him.

So if you happen to be walking through the Central Market Souk one of these days and see a lovely man sitting cross-legged making bangles, stop by and pick one up, because they are made with intricate care, and involve a good bit of history.

Through Souk Lights

A few weeks back I traveled through the varnished and coated wooden halls of the Central Market Souk. It is a beautiful combination of new design mixed with old arabian culture. Everything from the intricate latticework that separates the shops and boutiques to the dark stone floors invites you into this pleasant intertwining of fresh and historical. And if you had the privilege of traveling through the halls during the daytime you would get to see how all is accented through the reflective lights of the market’s stained glass windows.

I thoroughly enjoyed taking the time to peer through the windows of the Central Market. It was as if Abu Dhabi was no longer a city of concrete greys and sandy yellows, but a vibrant clash of blue edifices and orange crescents. It took me almost 15 minutes to finally dislodge myself and amble upwards to the roof where I found a terrace and in the daylight, saw a further view of the Central Market’s ‘Soon to be Open’ extension. And so, interestingly enough, in the downstairs lights of the Souk windows I saw beauty, but in the light of the midday sun I saw truth.

Light is a fascinating thing. We cannot really see light but we know it is there because by it we see the world around us. We see life more brightly and colorfully, and appreciate things more clearly, but we also see what some things truly are. We see what has been done and what is still left to do.

Once when I was in high school, slaving away as the basement manager – self-appointed title – I would work in the dark corners of said basement, sweeping and cleaning the remnants of each unpacked. In the dark underbelly of the store I would gather up the cardboard and plastic bags that the merchandise arrived in and dispose of it properly. I worked many a day down in the back corners with barely any light. Then one morning I found a switch, a light switch, and I turned it on. For weeks I had been slaving away in the shadows only to find, in a mere second, that what I thought had been clean was in reality dusty, gross, and full of hidden trash that had fallen behind the shelves.

You see, without the light I wouldn’t have realized how little “cleaning” I had actually accomplished, but I also would have never gotten the chance to give that basement a proper scrubbing. Likewise, the lights that illuminated the ins and outs of the Central Market Souk showed me many wondrous things that the market had to offer. But much like many things in Abu Dhabi, despite it’s apparent visual appeal, the light also showed that this Souk is still a ‘Work in Progress.’ Maybe that’s why I enjoy seeing such things being built and constructed and formed and shaped and created, because much like them, I too am still taking shape. Are you?