Skip to main content

how I was sold a pile of shit, literally

Wednesday morning, the gardener who had watered my plants continuously said "khad" and pointed to the plants. A friend confirmed that he was saying "manure."
This morning, I opened my bedroom door and found four small bags of manure lying on my terrace. As I walked across the terrace, my gardener cum car washer came jumping over the terrace wall. He asked for 20 rupees. I had only 50 rupees and he did not have change. He began digging up my plants and pouring manure on top. He explained that the bags were 50 rupees each and I had given him 180 rupees Thursday so I owed him 20 rupees. I began feeling badly that I thought I had paid him the 180 rupees for February's work when I had really only paid him for the manure.
Five minutes later, he came over and explained how 50 rupees was actually what I owed him: 20 rupees for the manure + 30 rupees for labor. No change was necessary. Of course, I already felt badly for not paying him for Feb so I obligingly paid him the 50 rupees.
After he left, I realized I still had manure from when we planted the greens originally. I opened the bag, which was at least as large as the four bags he bought combined. My bag was 60 rupees total! I bought the shit. Boy, am I gullible sometimes.

Comments

Unknown said…
Sarah not only did you buy shit, but you over paid by more than twice the cost for it! as funny and out of the ordinary this sounds in the US it sounds rather every-day for India. at least you dont need to feel bad for not paying the guy his monthly pay because he got all his money from the overpriced shit. remember it does say adventurer in your own description of yourself for your blog, and this is certainly one. luv u sis

Popular posts from this blog

Rare Disease Day 2024

Today's Rare Disease Day. There's sometimes a particular weightiness to life with a rare disease. All the appointments, emergencies, traumas, doctors, therapists, medicines, opinions, schedules and upset schedules. My touchpoint is being mom to my precious girl with Wiedemann-Steiner Syndrome  (WSS). You'd have to spend a day or week shadowing me to know what it's really like. Doesn't that sound alienating? As though you couldn't possibly imagine if you're not living it? Well, maybe. But think about a time of immense grief you've lived through, or a time when your world seemed to be falling apart around you and it felt like everyone else was completely unaffected. I suppose it's a bit like that. You might have thought that those around you couldn't possibly know how that experience felt to you. A couple weeks ago, I started keeping a list of all the extraordinary things that happened in my life due to my daughter's rare disease. I learned a c...

Startup Day 875: piloting in New Haven

Iteration is emblematic of startups. For example: From last year's pilot , we learned that parents and adults with disabilities were looking for recommended resources.  We built the Empowered Together app and tried crowd-sourcing those recommendations.  In our New Haven pilot, we're bringing database building in-house by listing accessible food, arts, and recreational businesses in greater New Haven.  Thankfully, we have thought partners in this endeavor at the City of New Haven and at community disability orgs. We are working with a Quinnipiac student and awaiting word on additional grant funding. We're taking the right next step in changing the social system to be accessible and inclusive of People with Disabilities.

How I Got a Blister from a Cowbell

The bullhorn sounded and he was off, swimming his heart out, across a 50m stretch of lake as deep as his arm is long. My youngest, William, competed in his third year of the  Race4Chase  triathlon in August. When we first applied, I reflected on how I hoped this triathlon camp would allow Will to do something that was entirely his. It would be an opportunity to spread his wings apart from his sister's influence. For siblings of kids living with disabilities, this kind of autonomy is life giving. Back at the lakeside, I was watching Will from a distance and ringing a cowbell like no ones business. Will ran up from the waterfront and we cheered him on. He transitioned to the bike portion and we cheered him on. When he came into view at the end of the bike and transitioned to the run, the final segment of the race, we cheered him on. All the while, that cowbell was clanging. When Will sprinted across the finish line, there was no stopping him (or the cowbell). Thinking about...