Coolies

Last night, I got my first delivery of groceries. A very proud moment, although I don't know what one package of stuff is. It's some kind of powder, the package is all in Hindi, and has a picture of some kind of paneer masala-type substance on it. Anyways, it was delivered by a coolie, which is basically a person who carries and moves things for a living. Now, where I am living is not very close to the school, and the school is a fair walk to the bazaar (for me anyway, an out-of-shape lowlander who runs out of breath from peeling an orange at this altitude). So, this guy carried a fairly hefty load on his back up a huge hill (again, to me a big hill) in the dark and I was told not to give him a tip. Just a glass of water. Lame. It's one of those things where I would love to lavish money on guys like this and spread the wealth around like the socialist I am, but I can't. It's just not the way things work. So, to quote Anthony Bourdain when he was in India, "Do you hate your job? Really? Wanna trade?"