toe up commotion

I did not bring knitting needles on this trip--let me amend that;  I did not bring sock knitting needles.  I knew that all the women in the village where I'd be staying were constantly knitting socks, so I figured it must be possible to get knitting needles there.  Wrong.  I went to several different stores (picture small dark cave-like rooms into which you step down from the street onto a mud floor; shelves in every direction piled with everything from shampoo to germinated corn; often no-one present to sell you anything and when they are, usually unable to find what you ask for).  No-one had knitting needles.  I couldn't find a comb for my hair either, so this is not so surprising.  Therefore I pleaded with the Boss to bring me some back from one of his trips to Lima.  Let it be said for this brave man that he succeeded in this, even down to the right length and size! 

It's not as if I didn't have enough other thread things to do, but knitting for me seems to have a social component and with everyone else knitting socks, it was not long before I had an urge to do likewise.  I cast on one afternoon taking a break from work sitting in the sun behind the lab with my co-workers (astounding weavers both) and the Señora from the village who kept us company.  She was knitting socks, talking all the while.  Perhaps more accurate to say complaining, as she rarely stops that favorite pursuit, and always has something scandalous to say about anybody.  If she doesn't know anything bad, she´ll make it up.  Anyhow, I was doing a figure-8 wrapping around a couple of needles in order to start a toe-up sock and she asked me "Señorita Carrie, are you casting on?  It´s much easier like this!"  And I smiled gently and paid no attention, because frankly, by that time, I was tired of her and very tired of the assumption that, being a gringa, I can't spin, weave, knit, sew or cook.  If anyone ever saw me with a spindle in hand, they´d ask what I was doing.  "I´m spinning," I would reply, and they would stop astonished and watch as I actually made thread.  They would whisper among themselves.  "She knows how to do it!  Look!  Her thread is even!"  I´m used to being an oddity.  Still, it bothered me that this woman did not think I know how to cast on. 

Later when I walked around the village with my little toe growing, people would stop me and ask "What are you knitting?"  "Socks," I replied, and they looked puzzled at the little pocket on my needles.  "Socks?"  and then I would explain that I started at the toe, and they would explain that no-one does it that way, that everyone there starts at the top, and how strange it was to see a sock growing from the toe!  From the toe! 

But the most extreme example of this happened when I got on the bus to come down the mountain.  Waiting for the bus to start, I took the sock out of my pack and started making a few stitches--I was almost done with turning the heel and having had no instructions by me, was eager to see how it would turn out and if my improvisation would work.  In Peru, every time buses stop people get on and off with baskets of things, cookies, sodas, crackers, snacks to sell.  There were several women with such baskets in the aisle at the time and shortly after I started knitting I heard a discussion in front of me:  "La gringita!  Teja...  en verdad, esta tejiendo..."  and pretty soon an old woman asked me what I was knitting and I told her.  "Socks!  She starts at the toe!  Look! How is it possible!"  Pretty soon I had at least four or five women around me and they passed the sock around marveling at how it was done.  They told me over and over again that they start at the top when making stockings.  (Yes, ok, I get it.)  One woman even wanted to know the number of stitches to start with and so on, so I tried to explain to her how to put the increases and all that.  They were fully intrigued and occupied until the bus started up.  Never has my knitting caused such a commotion!  "Where have you been?  When are you coming back?" they wanted to know.  "Come back and teach us!" 

I will, if I ever get there again. 

Comments

[Colleen]

That's one fantastic example of extreme KIPing!

[June]

I love how you turned everyone's assumptions on their head!

[claudia]

She's back! Very interesting KIP, for certain.

Congrats on the khipu (sp.) findings. June spread the word.

[Jennifer]

That's funny. Now you just need to think of a way to start knitting socks at the heel and you'll really freak them out!

[grumperina]

What a great story! It must be fun to chuckle to yourself as they think you can't spin or knit or weave. I'm surprised you weren't able to borrow a set of needles from one of the women in the village, but I'm glad you were able to get a pair eventually.

[diana]

Thank god they didn't burn you as a witch! I'm glad you are home safe and sound!