On my way through town on Saturday morning, I popped into the World Shop and browsed through a fair trade market (I managed to avoid the three(!) evangelists on the way). They had a number of really lovely and yummy things. I bought some freshly made olive and sundried tomato paninis, I dithered over the rooibos chai tea leaves, I admired all the tchotkes and thingamies that seem to have collected in Reading from all over the world.
There were whisper dishes from Tibet, carvings from Kenya, items made out of recycled materials from Zimbabwe or similar. And I found myself horribly torn. On the one hand, they're well crafted and unusual, imported from those countries or made here by refugees or immigrants. Buy them, because they're interesting, because they tell a story, because they're beautiful. On the other hand, by them and if someone asks you can say you got them at a market. In Reading. I love the little carvings and boxes I got in Mozambique because I got them in Mozambique. I want a whisper dish from Tibet, but I want it to be from my visit to Tibet. Is it cheating to buy these things from a shop that also sells fair trade coffee and chocolate, and at night is a good place to score space cake?
I get the same feeling every time I buy coffee from Starbucks. Guilt.
PATTOTE: Better living through the global village - I'm unconvinced.
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