Maintaining harmoni(um)

Buckle up. This one took some time.

For the past month I’ve been grateful to work with a music teacher who has introduced me to learning how to play the harmonium and understand how to read Indian music (forget Do Re Mi. It’s Sa Ri Ga…from now on), as well as help me to hear and repeat certain patterns in the music, and how to keep rhythm (slow, single, double even triple time). And of course we’ve been chanting. These pieces all go hand in hand and are even complementary of my experience studying yoga and philosophy in Mysore. It has been at once, a meditative and transformative process. So, as I prepared to leave Mysore and continue with my travels, I decided the time had come to fulfill a dream and I set out to purchase a harmonium.

Armed with 3 reputable stores to check out thanks to my teacher, Ranjini, I hired a rickshaw driver and away we went. Not to be overlooked for even a moment here is the fact that once you hire a rickshaw driver in India, they are committed to you. Your time is their time. Your endeavor becomes theirs and receives full attention. Of course they’re being paid for it, but compensation is so minimal for the amount of time spent hanging around and waiting and helping that it continues to blow my mind. Just try to imagine this sort of relationship with a cab driver in your neighborhood. Impossible.

Our first stop proved to be overpriced and a little too fancy for my taste, but I had a chance to try a few different harmoniums on for size and grace the music store with my vast knowledge of basic scales. I’m sure they were impressed.

A friend who was very generous with her time on this particular day met me and accompanied me to the other side of the market in search of further options. The first store on this side of town was closed for lunch…indeed, the tradition of siesta is alive and well in India...but to my knowledge it’s not called anything fancy, just lunch. So, onto it’s rival across the street (found with some friendly help from Madu the rickshaw driver/ interpreter/ courier/ guardian angel, and some folks on the street). The store was basic in terms of square feet (max occupancy was 3), but the selection was plentiful with instruments stacked floor to ceiling.

Again I played scales since it’s what I know best, and was quite entertained to find that when I looked up from playing, a small audience of about 4 or 5 men gathered and were standing in the doorway, I presume, to watch more than listen. Nonetheless, they seemed genuinely pleased that we were there. In no time at all I found a contender, considered the odds of the 3^rd and final store returning from siesta any time in the next hour, and with that, happily selected the bellows of my dreams!

A phone call by the store’s owner resulted in the almost immediate arrival and subsequent parting of the crowd by a stranger from the depths of the outside market that came in to make a few adjustments that only seconds before I requested be made to the instrument. We were packed so tightly into the store that we easily could have been shipped along with my new toy without any need for styrofoam fillers!

Rupees were exchanged, pictures were taken and I requested that my newfound love be boxed so I could ship it back to the US. A small consortium of about 4 or 5 (some new, some old) men including the store owner and rickshaw driver proceeded to discuss and eventually agree upon the best method to pack the box and in no time, I happily left the store a proud harmonium owner.

Sitting in the rickshaw, box in my lap, we were headed for the ominous post-office when about 40 meters down the road while slowed (not stopped), a man approached us from out of nowhere and said that he does sealing and shipping and to go with him. Talk about ambulance chaser! These guys mean business. I’ve heard only horror stories about trying to send things from the post-office (lines, missed paperwork, back to the end of the lines and the need for proper ID which I didn’t have on me at the time). I looked to Madu for some counsel who gave me the go-ahead with the wag of his head, so I figured I’d give it a shot.

We were led to a partially underground partially open-air space/ office across from a Mosque in the middle of the busy market where business was to take place. Madu parked his rickshaw and carried the box in for me. Again, this sort of assistance, dare I say devotion is not possible to comprehend in any other place I’ve been. From here, my new host took over. I asked how much it would cost to send and he assured me he’d tell me when the time was right, but for now we had to measure, unpack, repack and of course ensure many times through many sets of knuckles that the wood instrument was not made of precious sandalwood (somehow knocking on the outside of it with a fist is the way to determine this…sort of like watching a physician tap a patients belly in search of a hollow sound…but I digress). Alas it was confirmed that the instrument is constructed of wood whose origin and genus I am unfamiliar with.

Now, I’ve never been fitted for something like a bridal gown but I have known many a bride in my time and so, I can say with quite a bit of confidence, measuring and sealing (aka sewing) a package closed in preparation for overseas shipment from India absolutely rivals this process in total time spent, fittings and readjustments included. After about 40 minutes of sitting and chatting about all things India, chai was ordered and I realized that perhaps this was going to take a while. Eventually, the harmonium was packed, material to cover and sew the box up with was cut and fit to size, stitching was completed and I began to look to the street to catch a glimpse of the last bit of the light of day.

Then it happened. About 75 minutes into the process, the documents were brought forward for me to fill out. I needed a receipt with the purchase cost. Once again, Madu to the rescue. Honestly, would your cabbie do that? Upon his return, I was asked to write my mailing address and theirs as the return address on the box. The return address literally included the phrase ‘across the street from the blah blah Mosque’. I eventually ended up writing this 5 times in 5 different places. Then a binder (not entirely full of women) was brought forth with pictures and emails of satisfied customers. We were urged to look through this before continuing any further in the mailing process, I suppose to help alleviate any doubts I might have had when he finally gave me a quote. But that was not to happen so soon…

Following the binder came a stack of sample letters whose form I was to follow in constructing a letter to the customs agent inspecting the box that described its contents and what it would be used for (along with what it would not be used for). After some disagreement, we settled on ‘new, ordinary, wood, manual, musical harmonium’ as the content description. Then I attached the receipt along with this letter on the outside of the sealed and sewn box to improve my chances that no one would tamper with my parcel. I understood this, so I began writing. Three drafts, 15 minutes and almost zero patience later I finally completed the note to my professors satisfaction. 

Eventually the parcel was weighed and a price was calculated. Truthfully I was about 90 mins beyond my limit at this point so I almost didn’t hear him tell it to me. Until I did. Yeah, that’s right. It costs more to mail the harmonium to the US than it does to purchase it. “US and Canada. Very expensive. If you ship to Europe, much cheaper.” I paused and wondered to myself, do I bother telling him that I don’t live in Europe? (not yet, anyway!)

The estimated mailing time is 35 days.

I sure do hope my satisfied customer picture and email make their way into that binder!