I said.
Akio reached for the leech and pulled at it with his thumb and forefinger. The leech came off with a light spurt of blood and then proceeded to stick itself to his hand, sucking instantly.
‘Now it on my thumb!’
Mani came closer and began to laugh as we watched Akio trying to pick the leech off with his other hand. Each time he succeeded in removing it from one hand it stuck to the other. I found it quite amusing too, and even Akio could see the funny side of it. The leech was ruthless. Finally, with a swift attack Akio managed to lift the leech and send it flying through the air, to a location unknown to us all.
‘Phew, no messing around with that leech,’ I said to Akio with a chuckle.
‘Ah, like a Dracula,’ commented Akio, now tending to the wound on his leg.
‘You have more on your shoe.’ Mani pointed down towards Akio’s feet. Five fat leeches were wriggling through the lace holes of his left boot.
‘Ah shit-o,’ he cried.
Ten minutes and five flying leeches later we were sitting at a table in a small teahouse. Mani would have dal bhat with the family soon. Akio and I awaited our noodle soup.
‘What do you do for work?’ Mani’s question came unexpectedly after all this time.
‘I study, eh, chemistry. Research-o,’ Akio answered, waving his hands as he spoke.
‘Is it good job?’ Mani asked, very interested.
‘It is for me a good job but, I think, not for everybody.’
Our noodle soup arrived and Akio began to slurp into his, as did I.
‘You, Sean, you have good job?’ Mani looked serious.
‘I work on contracts—as an engineer!’ I replied. ‘You know, electricity!’
I mimed electrocuting myself and Mani copied my action, showing he understood.
‘What about you, Mani, why did you become a porter?’ I had wanted to ask the question since I’d met him and now was the right time. Mani’s big eyes glanced at me briefly and then he smiled shyly.
‘When I was a boy, my family very poor. We not so much money.’ He began to laugh; it was becoming clear that laughter was his way of easing around awkward conversation. ‘In Nepal it is difficult—’ he qualified this—‘I think it’s very difficult.’ Mani continued to talk as he looked away from Akio and me. ‘I hear about porter work. My uncle was guide and he give me job. First I work for no money, only dal bhat. I carry bags while my uncle is guide. Now my cousin Om help bring me work and I get three hundred rupees for one week.’
‘Ah, very bad-o money,’ said Akio, shovelling a spoonful of noodle soup into his mouth.
I was surprised by Akio’s rudeness, but Mani seemed unfazed. ‘I give two hundred to my family and rest for dal bhat and saving. It is good, I think! Soon I work for me, I my own company.’ Again Mani broke off in laughter.
When he was called for his lunch, I watched him slip away with the family and felt a mixture of sadness and cheer. You almost always meet somebody who has it ten times worse than you. Mani’s three hundred rupees a week amounted to one large meal for me—or four Mars bars from a stall along the trek path. Yet it was obvious how valued he was by the families we met; always taken into their circle.
Dear Holy God, please protect Mam and Dad, John, Sarah and Sam, Benji and Rusty, all my friends and relatives and everybody who needs your help today and Mani.
How could Akio be so insensitive to such a hardworking guy?
Dear Holy God, please protect Mam and Dad, John, Sarah and Sam, Benji and Rusty, all my friends and relatives and everybody who needs your help today and Mani … and Mani … and Mani.
I couldn’t get his name to feel right, and I needed to or his prospects would never improve. Akio slurped once again from his noodles and wrote a few notes in his book.
I rubbed my thumbs against my forefingers. Mani…Mani.
I rubbed my temples and thought hard about the words. Mani. It worked.
I must be going mad. I can’t change anything about Mani’s life,
Akio reached for the leech and pulled at it with his thumb and forefinger. The leech came off with a light spurt of blood and then proceeded to stick itself to his hand, sucking instantly.
‘Now it on my thumb!’
Mani came closer and began to laugh as we watched Akio trying to pick the leech off with his other hand. Each time he succeeded in removing it from one hand it stuck to the other. I found it quite amusing too, and even Akio could see the funny side of it. The leech was ruthless. Finally, with a swift attack Akio managed to lift the leech and send it flying through the air, to a location unknown to us all.
‘Phew, no messing around with that leech,’ I said to Akio with a chuckle.
‘Ah, like a Dracula,’ commented Akio, now tending to the wound on his leg.
‘You have more on your shoe.’ Mani pointed down towards Akio’s feet. Five fat leeches were wriggling through the lace holes of his left boot.
‘Ah shit-o,’ he cried.
Ten minutes and five flying leeches later we were sitting at a table in a small teahouse. Mani would have dal bhat with the family soon. Akio and I awaited our noodle soup.
‘What do you do for work?’ Mani’s question came unexpectedly after all this time.
‘I study, eh, chemistry. Research-o,’ Akio answered, waving his hands as he spoke.
‘Is it good job?’ Mani asked, very interested.
‘It is for me a good job but, I think, not for everybody.’
Our noodle soup arrived and Akio began to slurp into his, as did I.
‘You, Sean, you have good job?’ Mani looked serious.
‘I work on contracts—as an engineer!’ I replied. ‘You know, electricity!’
I mimed electrocuting myself and Mani copied my action, showing he understood.
‘What about you, Mani, why did you become a porter?’ I had wanted to ask the question since I’d met him and now was the right time. Mani’s big eyes glanced at me briefly and then he smiled shyly.
‘When I was a boy, my family very poor. We not so much money.’ He began to laugh; it was becoming clear that laughter was his way of easing around awkward conversation. ‘In Nepal it is difficult—’ he qualified this—‘I think it’s very difficult.’ Mani continued to talk as he looked away from Akio and me. ‘I hear about porter work. My uncle was guide and he give me job. First I work for no money, only dal bhat. I carry bags while my uncle is guide. Now my cousin Om help bring me work and I get three hundred rupees for one week.’
‘Ah, very bad-o money,’ said Akio, shovelling a spoonful of noodle soup into his mouth.
I was surprised by Akio’s rudeness, but Mani seemed unfazed. ‘I give two hundred to my family and rest for dal bhat and saving. It is good, I think! Soon I work for me, I my own company.’ Again Mani broke off in laughter.
When he was called for his lunch, I watched him slip away with the family and felt a mixture of sadness and cheer. You almost always meet somebody who has it ten times worse than you. Mani’s three hundred rupees a week amounted to one large meal for me—or four Mars bars from a stall along the trek path. Yet it was obvious how valued he was by the families we met; always taken into their circle.
Dear Holy God, please protect Mam and Dad, John, Sarah and Sam, Benji and Rusty, all my friends and relatives and everybody who needs your help today and Mani.
How could Akio be so insensitive to such a hardworking guy?
Dear Holy God, please protect Mam and Dad, John, Sarah and Sam, Benji and Rusty, all my friends and relatives and everybody who needs your help today and Mani … and Mani … and Mani.
I couldn’t get his name to feel right, and I needed to or his prospects would never improve. Akio slurped once again from his noodles and wrote a few notes in his book.
I rubbed my thumbs against my forefingers. Mani…Mani.
I rubbed my temples and thought hard about the words. Mani. It worked.
I must be going mad. I can’t change anything about Mani’s life,
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