The bus baggage handler opens the boot of the bus, points and vanishes.
We are to lift our packs inside, into the usual thick coating of fine dust, into the likelihood of spilled oil or some more mysterious liquid, into a hollow into which will be dropped and crammed various crates, boxes, bags of produce and other goods.
We heave our bags into the dust, turn, and hear “20 rupees” – from the mouth of the reappearing baggage handler, his hand out.
Okay, okay – that’s a mere 40 cents, but …. Early on, more naïve, we handed over the 20 or rupees for the privilege of having our bags thrown into that filth pit. Today, deaf, dumb and wiser, we turn our backs and climb into the bus.
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