Over in Scotland we have these things called warehouses. You know, where they keep goods before they put them on the super­market shelves. In Nepal they are called ‘aisles’ or sometimes, ‘the top shelf’. A few weeks ago I serendipitously photographed four ladies cleaning up something spilt on the floor of a well-known supermarket in Kath­mandu. Three of them managed to pull over those little plastic stools to sit on while one moped the offend­ing gunk off the floor.

 

This is a common occurrence, even on a Saturday (the busiest shopping day of the week). Custom­ers have learnt to jump over boxes, avoid stepping on slippery, plastic covered goods, and negotiate round the staff. And god help us if we dare to ask a question about the location of a particular good.

 

Interrupting conversations will be met with blank stares and in any case, they never know where anything is. And how could they? How can anyone remember where anything is in the over-stocked aisles and avalanche threatening ‘top shelves’?

 

Meantime we the customers are desperately searching for that par­ticular item that is always in the same location. But not this week. We get lulled into a false sense of consumerism when for many months the items we love have been available. And at several supermar­kets. And then, suddenly, it is out of stock, seemingly overnight, in every single outlet!

 

We search all likely shops, some­times getting lucky and sometimes not. I am in a soya milk chain. We report back, often with concrete evidence such as photographs, when we see the particularly brand that we like. Sometimes this backfires. Once I had heard that precious soya milk was available in Lalitpur.

 

Rushing over there (okay so I was going anyway) I discovered they only had the little individual car­tons in stock. So I bought about 25 of those. Hand on heart, about 30 minutes later my phone pinged and there was a picture of the full-sized cartons back on the shelves, right near my house!

 

So having climbed over the ‘ware­house’ goods, avoided annoying the staff, discovered your favorites are not there… now what? After filling the basket… ah yes… the basket. Do not get me started on those extreme­ly stupid baskets on wheels! Who the heck invented those? And are they supposed to be pushed or pulled? I have never seen anyone push them— whereby they could see approaching fellow shoppers. No, I have only seen people pulling them behind them, and others have to do a quick step to either pass or because the owner of the pull-along basket has stopped suddenly.

 

So, having climbed over the ‘ware­house’ goods, avoided annoying the staff, discovered your favorites are not there, stumbled over pulled bas­kets, is there anything else we can do in the supermarket? Of course there is! Aside from food shopping, one can go up the escalator—and sometimes it even works—to the Aladdin’s cave of crockery, clothes, electrical goods and, my favorite, those table top lamps cum water features.

 

Venture into the far aisles at your own risk! You may never be seen again among the plethora of stainless steel utensils or children’s toys. And if you take a child with you, remember buying a doll or teddy bear at twice the normal price might not have been on your shopping list.

 

So, you know it… having climbed over the ‘warehouse’ goods, avoid­ed annoying the staff, discovered your favorites are not there, stum­bled over pulled baskets, bought the much sought after water feature for your lounge, found your child chew­ing on a toxic toy, and having actu­ally managed to pay for everything, what next? Why not enjoy a plate of momos or kathi rolls al fresco? Don’t forget to eat while blocking the entrance to the supermarket because that is all part of the fun of shopping in Kathmand