Craftsmanship

As I was sitting in a tailor shop in R.A.Puram in Chennai I realized several things about life. When I came to India I only brought with me a few books. As far as novels, only one; Zen and the Art of Motorcycle Maintenance. I've read that book now maybe 7 times and am halfway through it again. In the beginning of the book, the narrator is talking about doing good work. He gives an anecdote of when he didn't know how to repair his own motorcycle and took it to a shop where the music was loud and the "mechanics" were very sloppy and looked like they didn't care. He then talks about how a real mechanic isn't talking on the job and doesn't really like to be disturbed while he's working because he's thinking hard as to why the machine in front of him seems not to be working.
I thought maybe these are generalizations and this one only one specific case. Perhaps that's right, but I saw something very similar today.

My sister is visiting Chennai now for a matter of two weeks and I'm a little embarrassed by my city. I wish I could show her some other city in India and say "look how great this place is." But no, she has to settle for Chennai for now. We're out of the cultural season, the weather is hot and sticky again, and the filth is incredible. So, what do I do with a vegetarian who likes hot weather and fabric... Well, I guess just act normally. We went fabric shopping yesterday so my sister could get some more weather appropriate gear. Of course, we bought a sarree and had it altered. It turns out my sister is taller than most men in India, so just buying something for her is out of the question. When we went to pick up the sarree after alterations I waited while she tried on her knew clothes and simply watched the tailor and the seamster working. They had a radio on quietly playing some Tamil music, but that was it. They were each working with incredible attention to detail and I watched the tailor cut some fabric impossibly thin with enormous scissors. I was entranced and then my spell was broken by the damn mosquitoes eating away at my ankles.

After that I had to move around to avoid getting bitten so much and just check in to watch the tailors when possible. It was a funny time to notice all this because I'd just been complaining about all the chaos in India and how very few things are done truly well. I guess what I meant to say was that most things done in mass are done porrly in India. But these two tailors changed my mind. Cool, calm, collected, and meticulous. I was a good show. So after all the negotiations I went through to get a cheaper price, I ended up tipping it back to the tailors.