Coconut lady

At the end I upgraded from the old pink blanket to this purple one :)

One comes to Nepal for the nature, for trekking and mountain climbing. People visit Pokhara for the fresh air and holidays. They come and spend their money as one would on the vacation. I, however, went there to work and make money.

Me and Tom came to Nepal three months ago. I had some cash and 8 pounds in my bank account and … and that was pretty much it. We knew we would spend the money very quickly; considering we planned to go back to India we needed additional at least 4900 rupees – times two- for the visa. Of course, we also wanted to save up a little bit. Hence there was only one option: start earning. Since Tomas is an artist of multiple talents, I never doubted he could make anything possible.  And since I am a born businessperson, I knew I am able to cash all this anything. 

With the scary thought of our situation in mind I packed a very old, dirty, used-to-be-pink blanket, and two semi-precious stones with macrame around it which Tom made when he had been learning this craft back in Hampi; I also took few coconut shells polished with a great difficulty only by a sand paper, into a mixing bowls and bracelets. I put it all into my little rucksack, went to the lake, and sat down. If Nepalese can sell their crap on the streets of Pokhara, why cannot I? I thought.
On the first day I earned something little more than 400 rupees. On the next day, however, I managed to earn few thousands!
It encouraged me enormously and showed me the new possibilities.
And yet, it wasn't as easy as it might sound. Pokhara in that time of the year was only waiting for the season to start. Not many people passed by my shop; imagine a 'pink' blanket with few random items, in a dirt next to a little road near the Fewa Lake. And even if there were few people walking by they usually were only local Nepalese. Watchers, as I call them. They were almost never interested in buying. They liked to talk and ask me the same questions as the previous one. Again. And again... Where are you from? What are you doing here? Why you don't have money?
White people often didn't even stop, either because they felt ashamed one of theirs might be begging there, or they simply couldn’t compute with the idea of an European selling handmade jewellery.
I had to always explain why am I doing what I was doing: “We have to save up money for the visa, and no, being white does not necessary mean you have millions on your bank account...” Especially if you have been travelling for almost a year.

The next weeks meant a constant search for the semi-precious stones since I had foreseen the big potential in the macrame art. We realized soon enough that Pokhara is the most expensive place for buying the stones. Then we had to search for the strings. At first we were buying just few metres, not knowing what the next day will bring. Will we still be able to sell our macrame?
Then the prices went up. Of course, we managed to find “our people” we could make a decent business with. Tom invented smoking sticks – bamboo cigarette holders- made from a local bamboo, painted with henna, carved into, and polished with coconut oil.

Sometimes I felt like a beggar... Sometimes it was really difficult to explain to the foreigners that I  indeed am not begging, and it is always possible to survive somehow. Few metres from the place where I used to sit was a Nepali old woman selling her cheap bracelets. On the other side of the path was a beggar family. Their little son was so dirty, and full of snots that I was absolutely revolted by him. But as much as I wanted to fight the idea, I soon realized that I was one of them. I sometimes brought biscuits to the little boy. The family started accepting me and always moved further when they've seen me coming to open 'my shop'.
I was never begging, and I was never cheating. I was proud about our stones and sold them for reasonable prices. After checking the local shops with similar art I could see what a beautiful handwork Tom is making. Of course, the stones we were choosing so carefully, were also the best pieces I've seen around the town. Hence considering the good quality of our necklaces my prices were quite low. And yet there were still people who laughed at me for selling 'just stones' for such prices, who came to make business with me, took my time and my energy, when I suddenly realized they were just amusing themselves. Some locals were really mean. Others, to my surprise, were however very helpful. In time, me and Tom became somewhat locals in Pokhara. When we walked the streets people greeted me with my nickname 'coconut' (from the early days when I used to have lot of coconut handicrafts on the blanket), but moreover I could buy fruits for the same prices as the locals. We had our favorite shops and restaurants, where they knew us and didn't cheat us. You see, it is absolutely normal in Nepal to pay double prices for anything with set price, since “this is Indian, m'am.” Yeah, just that the label says Made in Nepal...
Many times men asked for my number or offer me a dinner. I was always very tough- 'you want something to buy? Or are you just wasting my time?' I snapped. To my surprise  - and a big relieve- only one time I got an offer for sex. He wanted to pay me 4000 rupees. I said jokingly he would have to increase that price.. “Uhmm.. Ok 5000. But you are very expensive... “ He replied. To this day I don't understand why I didn't punch him.
On the other hand, I did meet loads of interesting people. The incredible stories I have heard, and the experiences we shared will forever remain in my memories.

At first I tried not to bargain. I was too proud about my stuff. I knew my prices are reasonable, and my goods are great. After some time I realized we produce too much stuff, sell too much, but also buy the stones and strings too expensively thus make only little profit.
When the season came, the Chinese came. They loved the stones.They never asked too many questions- sadly, most of the time could not even speak English. They also loved to bargain. On the other hand they had no idea about the prices so if they liked something, for them 2000 for a stone was as good as 5000. As long as they could bargain a bit.
With the season starting also other backpackers arrived to Pokhara. They sat down near me, put up their beautiful blankets, and showed off with their wonderful pieces of macrame. At first I was scared, but then I realized it is not only about the stuff you offer. It's about your selling skills, about greeting people, about explaining to them why the heck you would need to earn money in this way.

I was never basking, or selling on the street before. I used to have a quite regular job with a monthly income (as a journalist, you also never know what the tomorrow will bring...). For me this experience meant a life change. I now understand that everything is possible. And I know now I cannot judge anyone.
In the end of the day we saved only little money. We are going to India to spend it all for new stones and strings. And then the worry continues. How will the business go, who will buy our art? We do not know. But we will always find ourselves. The story continues...