Roadside Observations

Sitting in a roadside café in a small village in India may offer some of the best entertainment possible. You have going before you a stream of stories that great fiction writers could build an entire novel around. For me, I find myself wondering what exists within their lives. There is only a glimpse into their world as they go by.

Some in the village I have come to know a little bit over the years. There is the couple that owns my favourite chai shop. They can be counted on to deliver a warm, silky and spicy chai each time. Although the price has grown astronomically in the last year from 8 to 15 rupees. They have one child who is left in the care of a grandparent while they work the shop. This year, they announce that they now take Wednesdays off so that they can have one day in a week for the family to be together.

Down the road is the lady who runs the fruit stand. She is an astute businessperson who misses nothing. She can tell us what our favourite fruit choices were – last year. To keep our patronage, she will comb through the offerings to ensure that we have good fruit for the day.

Going the other way, is the shop where we can pick up local cheese. The young lady there who has worked in the shop from the first time we came to this part of India announced this will be the last year that we see her. She is marrying in October and moving to Coimbatore. She eagerly showed us a picture of her fiancée. In true modern ways, the photo was on her phone.

There are other glimpses into the lives of people who live in this small village. A lady walked past us today walking her cow as we might see someone walk their dog back home. The cow, in this case, is very much her livelihood and represents probably her most valued asset. Across the way is the husband and wife who have run what is essentially the corner store. Here you can get water, candy, cigarettes and, in recycled plastic water bottles, gasoline. A litre will cost you 80 rupees.

In this small village there can be numerous tourists who wander through. One would like to think that the various clothes and trinket shops offer a variety of choices. In the grand scheme of economics, the free market competition is at work. Well, nothing could be further from the truth. The shops are all run by the same group of Kashmiri men who offer precisely the same stock – rotated at times between the stores. They worry little if you walk away from one store because you are not satisfied with the deal you have tried to negotiate. There is a certain confidence that you will ultimately settle on the item at the next store – which of course they operate as well.

The village has a pace to it. You can almost determine the time by what transpires. For example, at 4 p.m. the school buses will role through. At 4:30, the staff from the guest houses will begin bicycling home. At around 7 p.m., the parade of motorcycles and scooters will begin coming for dinner in the few restaurants. They largely cater to the westerners who either visit or live in the area. Thus, one can have pizza, pasta, salad or even McCain French fries along with a burger. I have never tried the latter for fear of what might be actually in the burger.

The westerners seem to have their favourite places to simply sit and watch the world. On any given day, you can count on certain people being in certain places at fairly regular times. We humans are creatures of habit.

As I observe the villagers, I wonder what they think of us. “Oh there is that bearded guy with pony tail back”. But then what? They may conjecture about us or they may find us of no interest beyond whether we are buying. The children often find us of interest though. When we were buying our fruit, the school bus went buy. Some children stared, others started waving and a few yelled “Hello, how are you?” The greetings are to be returned as the bus wanders off.

The rolling scene that is the village carries on and we play our tiny bit part until our role ends when we depart in a few weeks. Then we take up the next role which is the one we are most familiar with – the one back home. Until then, there is good chai to be had here and today, not much else matters.