Page 43 of Somewhere Only We Know

‘Please thank him and tell him that I learned the hard way.’ I took off the necklace that Shila had given me and placed it on the table in front of Govinda. ‘Why don’t you tell your father what making and selling jewellery would mean to you? Don’t take no for an answer, keep trying, and make him listen to you. You can do it, Shila, I have faith in you.’

The young woman pulled her lip between her teeth, lines of uncertainty furrowing her brow. Govinda slurped his tea and spoke again harshly. Finally, Shila spoke, handing him the leaflet and forcing him to study it. He pored over the pictures, asking questions which Shila responded to with confidence and respect.

After a pause in the dialogue, Govinda smacked his hand down on the table and said something to Shila, a grin forming on his lips.

Hom giggled but Shila scowled and answered him back in a sharp voice.

‘What is it?’ I asked, unsure whether the conversation had taken a turn for the better or worse.

‘I am sorry. He is playing a game with us. He says that he will let me join this group if you will try his food.’

‘Really? That’s a fantastic result, congratulations, Shila.’ I pressed my hands together in prayer. ‘Thank you, Govinda.’

Govinda set Hom down and went inside.

‘You don’t understand. My father makes pickle. It is …’ She poked her tongue out and mimed fanning her face.

‘Spicy?’ I suggested, helping her out.

She nodded. ‘Like fire. We eat it with a potato snack.’

I gave her a supremely confident smile; spicy food would be no issue for me. ‘No problem, I’m happy to play his game.’

He returned with a plate of sausage-shaped croquettes and a small dish of chutney.

‘Aloo chop,’ he said, pointing at the croquettes. He picked one up, dipped it in the chutney and bit into it. Then he gestured for me to do the same.

I picked one up, dipped it hesitantly into the chutney and took a bite. The first sensation was one of sour limes, the second was a fiery burst of chilli.

‘Wow!’ I nodded, blinking as my eyes started to water. ‘This is good. Spicy, but good.’

All three of them stared at me with suspicion. Govinda gave a gleeful laugh and said something to Shila.

‘He says it is good for cleansing,’ said Shila gesturing to her stomach.

Good, I thought, I’d eaten lentils at least twice a day since I’d been here and I was feeling bloated.

‘Aloo chop,’ Hom sang out. ‘Aloo chop.’

‘I love it,’ I puffed my cheeks out and exhaled before dipping it into the chutney again.

Govinda beamed and gave me a round of applause. Shila waved the leaflet in his face and kissed his cheek. And just like that, she was in.

That was the easiest sales negotiation I’d ever done, I thought half an hour later as I prepared to leave.

‘I cannot thank you enough.’ Shila placed her hands together in prayer and bowed.

‘You did the hard work yourself,’ I said, returning the bow. ‘Stay strong, and make sure he sticks to his side of the bargain. I hope you’ll have a stall selling your beautiful jewellery at the next market. Good luck.’

Govinda gestured to the cart and pointed to me.

‘Thank you, but I’m going to walk. I need the exercise after all that delicious food.’ I patted my stomach, and he walked away laughing to himself.

‘Take these.’ Shila handed me some of the leftover aloo chop, wrapped in square of cotton. ‘For the others at the kindergarten.’

I thanked her, gave a sleepy Hom one last hug, and set off. It was one long straight road back to the village, and so even though the light was beginning to fade, I wasn’t worried about finding my way back.

I thought about Tiff as I walked. I’d googled her since I’d been here. In her day job, she was a mix engineer in the music industry. She’d worked with everyone from Beyoncé to Harry Styles. A woman at the top of her game. And yet still she found time and energy to run the One World Project. Food for thought, Magnolia Jones, I mused, comparing her rich life to my own sparser one. Food for thought.