Reblogged from Mary Smith’s Place:
The bazaar held an endless fascination for me, although the attention my presence attracted embarrassed Hussain horribly. He hated to see men staring at me. ‘’Mum, pull your chaddar round a bit more, those men are looking.’ With my chaddar pulled down to my eyes and up to my nose I would end up unable to see much more than the road in front of me. As I went about my shopping Hussain would accompany me, his face becoming more and more thunderous as a procession of curious onlookers formed, trooping from shop to shop behind us.
Tiny shops lined both sides of the street. Some were of traditional mud and wood construction but others were large transport containers. In the shop where I purchased sweets there was only about a yard of standing room. The rest of the floor was taken up by displays of sweets from Pakistan (these were an assortment of caramels and sherbet or chocolate filled boiled sweets, far superior and far more expensive than the plain, Afghan made sweets which came with tea), sacks of walnuts, almonds, dried apricots and sultanas from Jaghoray’s orchards, and cartons of cigarettes. These were mostly Japanese, under licence to the Afghan Government – Seven Stars, Peace – while were rip offs of branded names.
Continue reading at Mary Smith’s Place