Open Writing

Amid the noise and general stress, there are pleasures to be experienced when wandering round shopping centres. The first, perhaps, is simply watching other people — all sorts and conditions of women and men and children but, of course, if it's under a roof there are no dogs. Unless you have a quick look at the pet shop.

One pleasure was not inspecting a dog but observing a cat. Not any old cat, I'll have you know, but a British Short Hair. A delightfully handsome beastie, given that some cats are nasty predators which kill birds and possums. At $995, only a rich person could afford to buy the British Short Hair on display. Pedigree and all that, you know.

There's a good choice of eateries in the main food court. All the usual franchise food places pushing hamburgers, of course. Several Chinese outlets, with healthier food but perhaps a good measure of deep fried comestibles. Japanese raw fish things, for those who like them. Middle Eastern kebabs, now they look rather tasty. Indian curries, really very nice but too hot for some of us.

The outlet we chose has a name something like Healthy Living. It looks like a franchise but its wares live up to its name. A particular attraction is the baked stuffed potato. Four different kinds, actually, with names. My friend chose Bruce, the Australian potato with chopped spring onion, chopped no-fat bacon, low fat sour cream, cheese, and pineapple. All for $6.50 and a real meal. I chose vegetable lasagne, and was very satisfied. They make good, strong, real black coffee, as well.

Scattered here and there are stalls that stay for a week and then disappear. You know the sort of thing — pieces of quartz, malachite, amethyst, tiger eye, what have you, which are supposed to emit healing vibrations; domestic appliances and garden tools for people with arthritic hands; socks made in China; scarves and shawls made in China; watches made in China; sparkly cheap jewellery made in China; plastic flowers and pot plants made in China.

But wait, what's this? An Indian stall? Yes indeed. A remarkable display immediately identifiable as Indian. Nothing made of plastic but, rather, of wood, natural shell materials, brass, and some sort of rock. A couple of Buddha statuettes and lots of Ganesh in all shapes, sizes and colours for about $35 each. You knew straight away that they were made in India, not China or Bali, because they all included the rat, an essential partner of Ganesh. Each has his own way of dealing with obstacles.

Lots of decorative elephants, of course. Some lovely portrayals of the dance of Shiva, some in brass. Plenty of Krishna including a magnificently intricate carving about 40 centimetres tall which was obviously a lot more than $35. One face of Jesus, in solid brass, too, for good measure. All this, and a very talkative young Indian gentleman (with whom I exchanged a Namaste) who told us that he bought all his goods from craftsmen in India and in some cases he could tell us exactly who carved what. No mass produced moulded copies here.

He also had a range of small twinkly and brightly painted things for purely ornamental use. And some Magic Boxes, ingeniously and beautifully crafted wooden cubes and you had to work out how to open them or pull out a small drawer. My friend, doing her Christmas shopping nice and early, bought a small bright red insect (not a real one, you understand) with shimmering wobbly spring legs, and a tiny Magic Box out of which an even tinier snake sprung when you'd worked out how to open it.

Oh, and let's not forget that the young lady in attendance would draw your portrait in pencil if you wished. It would take only 10 minutes and cost $15. The samples on display didn't exactly encourage you to take up her offer.

On the next level upstairs, I headed for a permanent stall which purveys all manner of sweets (called lollies in Australia), nuts, and coffee beans. A remarkable range of coffees, and the amiable lady will grind your choice of beans at no extra charge to exactly the consistency you need for your coffee maker. Naturally, I bought 250 grams of Blue Mountain for a mere $7.50. And that is a pleasure which will last for weeks. Or perhaps days.

© Copyright Brian Barratt