Stroll Through Little India In Paris

Paris is a wonderful polyglot of cultures. Little India forms an exotic splash of very colourful shops lining several streets in the northern part of the 10th arrondissement.

Anytime I want to have the freshest of coconuts, the sweetest ripe mangoes, those strange looking vegetables, or Indian spices, I head that way.

It is also a feast for my eyes and nose presenting various culinary temptations I hope that I will not succumb to.

It is an easy trip on bus 38, all the way to its northern terminus at Gare de Nord, and I always enjoy the scenery on the way up, which is why I prefer the bus.

The huge festival of Ganesh is coming up at the end of August, which I have written about before.

I’ll probably go again to the parade for the amazing plethora of sights of fruit bedecked floats,  fire crowned twirling dancers, the gorgeous multi coloured Saris and the smashing coconut ceremonies of course.

The whole Hindu community in Paris is also extremely generous in passing out deliciously spiced boxes of biryani rice or chickpeas for all to enjoy.

There are barrels full of rose flavoured or lime sweet drinks poured out to the spectators as well.

Whereas the majority of Parisian neighborhoods were noticeably decibels quieter on Assumption weekend, not here!

Perhaps because Ganesh was coming up soon, I guessed that I would be seeing stockpiles of coconuts being stashed in the shops in preparation for the big event.

After exiting the bus at Gare du Nord, I walked up the main drag of the community, Rue Faubourg Saint Denis towards La Chapelle.

Faubourg Saint Denis was once a well off thoroughfare lying beyond the city walls, as it was the royal road for kings to travel on from the Cathedral Saint Denis into Paris through Porte Saint Denis.

Nowadays, it bears no resemblance what so ever to its more gentrified origins.  The southernmost part beginning from Porte Saint-Denis is one of the most dilapidated seedy looking streets in Paris.

Little India, is on the northern end running along the right side of the Gare du Nord train tracks. This is where the Eurostar trains come and go crossing the English Channel to England.

It’s still rather shabby but not as much so as the southern part where a large  Kurdish enclave thrives and Passage Brady houses Pakistani and Indian stores and restaurants as well.

The majority here immigrated from the old French colony of Pondicherry and Sri Lanka, where the Tamil language predominates.

As soon as I hit the street, the air seems mildly perfumed with incense coming from various stores as a prelude to a peek into the Indian culture.

The streets were as crowded as ever it seems, with many women in their brightly colored saris some passing out flyers for a clairvoyant fortune-teller.

I was amused by a sign in a Sari store meant to say that no bargaining was allowed.   Who knows though, maybe he is advertising that his saris are not a bargain!

I passed by a seafood store with a tempting mound of glistening blue crabs in the window that set off an intense crab craving stemming from my Louisiana roots and memories of past crab feastings.

Another temptation was the storefront window of a man making parottas, which are a specialty bread from Sri Lanka.

He rolled and slapped the dough a few times in ghee, then deftly pleated them into twirls of dough to be rolled out again and freshly grilled and served with all sorts of spice laden vegetables.

I wanted to head first to the Hindu Temple on Rue Pagnol. Crossing under the overhead subway at La Chapelle, the landscape becomes even more shabby and crowded with young men congregating on the sidewalks, for dubious reasons.

I was happily surprised to find the doors of the Temple open, probably because of the heat.

Racks for taking off your shoes were in front, but I felt somewhat intimidated entering, though all are welcome.

I felt content enough to have a good view of the altar where Ganesh a beloved Hindu deity was posed.

There was a bare-chested Hindu priest, with his long black hair pulled back into a bun, and wearing his sacred white robes tied around his waist.

I enjoyed his chanting and seeing how he would from time to time cause a burst of bright orange flames to spring from the incense bowl through offerings.

The Temple has ceremonies three times a day at 9, 12 noon and at 7 pm.  Several faithful were sitting on the floor offering their prayers to Ganesh.

After a while, someone brought over some bananas that the priest laid in front of the statue.

Though I didn’t know what this ceremony was for, I found it presented an air of sacred reverence and devotion to those gathered in prayer.

Before leaving, women gathered a small pinch of the blessed red powder to take from a brass chalice, that they wear for sacred reasons and to denote that they are married.

I would have stayed longer but felt uncomfortable when a flirtatious young guy sent me scurrying on my way.

Crossing back down, I walked down Rue Perdonnet and Rue Cail both of which intersect with Faubourg Saint Denis.

They were chock full of Indian video and music stores, interspaced with Indian restaurants, small cafes, pastry shops, Indian groceries and Indian beauty parlours.

The beauty saloons were numerous and offered henna paintings for women to decorate their hands.

I was specifically looking for another Indian food store that I had not been to before, described as larger than the one I generally frequented.

V.T. Cash and Carry was certainly larger than the other shop I usually go to but was just as jammed full of people making it difficult to navigate the narrow aisles.

I found some unusual brass and copper  hot pots and spotted a chapati or flatbread press, that reminded me of ones for tortillas.

 

A man was grating a coconut on a machine with a rotating conical grater.  The snow white flakes filled bags for those too lazy or tired to grate their own.

Their bags of spices were huge, more than I would ever use up quickly enough. I left without buying anything, preferring the vegetables at V.S. Cash and Carry on Rue Faubourg Saint Denis.

I stepped inside one of the Ganesha Sweets pastry shops with neatly arranged shelves of pretty geometrically carved coloured sweets and salty snacks.

Ground cashews, coconut, carrots, some bound with chickpea flour and loaded with sugar, and various aromas looked like brightly coloured jewels.

However tempting and pretty they were to the eye, they were all are heavily sugared beyond my tastes.

One of my favorite stops is at the flower shops, specializing in beautiful handmade leis of sweet jasmine that I like to take home.

Before heading back, I stopped off at VS Cash and Carry for some bright green okra and a coconut.

The creamy yellow mangos from Pakistan were going for 9 euros a box.  The bright dark yellow fresh coconuts for sale would be practically impossible for me to have shelled without a machete!

Stalks of bright yellow bananas were cut on demand and commanded a hefty price of 5.80 euros a kilo!

They were selling some overly odorous durians too, more for the Asians I presumed.

I was interested in coming home with a bag of okra, which I know will be very fresh and at a good price.

The French don’t eat okra, so just the African, Asian and Indian communities have it for sale.

I waited until a man had emptied out a new bag of brown coconuts before I picked one out. The coconut I chose felt as heavy as a lead ball, so it must be fresh!

I was still in my crab carving mood when I passed by that huge stack of crabs, each one neatly tied with string.

Certainly, they had been frozen, imported from either Sri Lanka or somewhere in the Indien Ocean.  There was zero movement to be in seen in any of them, and besides Louisianians though don’t buy dead crabs.

I grabbed some limes and a bundle of fresh coriander bought from a street vendor, who have the best prices, before boarding the bus back home.

I was relieved that I avoided again all those carb tempting treats that are nothing but empty calories.

It is always a culinary venture there that tweaks all four senses and makes for an interesting few hours in this wonderfully vibrant city, just one of many I return to often!