I was roving on the
monastery tourist route in Sikkim state and felt happy to return to Gangtok for
the evening, where I was looking forward to a nice chat with the wonderful
staff at the New Modern Central Hotel, the last place on Earth where I thought
I would meet the spawns of an ex-kingdom small as a tiny splinter in India’s
finger, and of the promoters of equal rights between sexes. By 5PM I was back
on Tibet Road where Sang – the lady owner of the hotel, some tourists and some
cops were having a pretty intense conversation just outside the hotel doors.
I decided to wait until all the commotion was over and hid in a conveniently
placed store from where I could scrutinize the whole scene. But, as I tried
hard to refine my hearing and my intuitive senses, they all disappeared
together down Tibet Road, so all my attempts at private detectiving were
abruptly terminated. So i waited at reception until Sang came back literally
purple in the cheeks, panting and huffing. She sat down and proceeded to tell me
what had happened (try to imagine this entire dialog taking place in an all but
level tone of voice):
'So these 3 backpackers come, like, they ask for a room and I show them one and they, like, say they think about it and come back down and, like, they’re not really happy, so I send the boy upstairs to clean the room, right? And the boy comes back and takes them to see the room again, right? And they, like, ask for some clean sheets, you know? And I haven’t checked the rooms, ‘cause I don’t check them every day, you know? This is why I have a manager, like, you know? And I tell them I will personally change the sheets if they are not clean enough, right? So they go up the third time, right? And the boy walks up 4 flights of stairs and cleans the room and shows them everything, you know? And then come back and they say okay, they'll take the room. And, like, they sit here, smoking and filling in the forms and I tell them, you know, they need to get copy of the passport, the visa, the permit, you know? For one hour they sit here, right? And then they fill in everything and go upstairs, you know? And an hour later they come down and drop the key in front of me and they say they don't want to say. And I'm shocked, you know? Because I didn't know what happened, but okay, if they want to check out, fine. But I tell them that because they checked in already, they have to pay a little cancellation fee, you know, like 50-50-50 each. And even the room I gave them was really cheap, you know, like 500 a night. And the boy has to go up three times and clean the room and everything so that they are happy, right? So this fucking German – just one of them, right; the girl seemed already like she wanted to deal with everything nicely, right? This guy throws 20 rupees in my face, you know? So that's when I exploded, right? And, like, I started shouting, well not really shouting but I got very, very mad, and I told him to take his fucking 20 rupees and don't throw them like that. What, does he think we're animals or what? I also travelled, I've been to Bruxelles for 6 months and where does he think he is? In Europe hotels would charge all the money for something like that, you know? And this German guy tells me to show him on the internet the law that says they have to pay. But what does he think? I don't have internet on my phone and c'mon, 50 rupees each is not that much... So they want to go away so I tell them to wait and I'll call the pulice, like. And the pulicemen come and I explain everything and they think I'm crazy, right? You know, everybody in the city knows who I am. You know, this hotel was a wedding present from my parents, you know? And my husband is very well known in the city… You walked around MG Marg, right?’
'So these 3 backpackers come, like, they ask for a room and I show them one and they, like, say they think about it and come back down and, like, they’re not really happy, so I send the boy upstairs to clean the room, right? And the boy comes back and takes them to see the room again, right? And they, like, ask for some clean sheets, you know? And I haven’t checked the rooms, ‘cause I don’t check them every day, you know? This is why I have a manager, like, you know? And I tell them I will personally change the sheets if they are not clean enough, right? So they go up the third time, right? And the boy walks up 4 flights of stairs and cleans the room and shows them everything, you know? And then come back and they say okay, they'll take the room. And, like, they sit here, smoking and filling in the forms and I tell them, you know, they need to get copy of the passport, the visa, the permit, you know? For one hour they sit here, right? And then they fill in everything and go upstairs, you know? And an hour later they come down and drop the key in front of me and they say they don't want to say. And I'm shocked, you know? Because I didn't know what happened, but okay, if they want to check out, fine. But I tell them that because they checked in already, they have to pay a little cancellation fee, you know, like 50-50-50 each. And even the room I gave them was really cheap, you know, like 500 a night. And the boy has to go up three times and clean the room and everything so that they are happy, right? So this fucking German – just one of them, right; the girl seemed already like she wanted to deal with everything nicely, right? This guy throws 20 rupees in my face, you know? So that's when I exploded, right? And, like, I started shouting, well not really shouting but I got very, very mad, and I told him to take his fucking 20 rupees and don't throw them like that. What, does he think we're animals or what? I also travelled, I've been to Bruxelles for 6 months and where does he think he is? In Europe hotels would charge all the money for something like that, you know? And this German guy tells me to show him on the internet the law that says they have to pay. But what does he think? I don't have internet on my phone and c'mon, 50 rupees each is not that much... So they want to go away so I tell them to wait and I'll call the pulice, like. And the pulicemen come and I explain everything and they think I'm crazy, right? You know, everybody in the city knows who I am. You know, this hotel was a wedding present from my parents, you know? And my husband is very well known in the city… You walked around MG Marg, right?’
…
‘Did you see that gate
with the dragons? Well, like, that was made by my father-in-law, right? He’s an
artist, you know? Like my husband. And he did all the sculptures of dragons; anywhere
you look for dragons in Gangtok, like, all were done by my father-in-law, you
know? They call him Dragon Baba, you know? So these-these-these stupid
tourists, you know? For 50 rupees I get this much trouble?! But it's not for
the money, it's for the ethics, you know? What do they think? That because I
live in India I'm stupid? But the pulice,
you know? They're always on the side of the tourists so that we here in Sikkim
state will make a good impression on the travellers, right? And they think I’m crazy,
right? This crazy lady makes so much fuss for nothing… You know? But the old puliceman, you know, he understood what
I said and told these travellers that they should pay something and just leave
it like this, you know? At least for the boy’s effort for going up and down so
many times and cleaning the room, right? But he left and the other one was on
the backpackers’ side, like, he thinks I shouldn’t make, you know, so much
blah-blah out of this, you know? And he told us to go to the pulice station but that German idiot,
you know? He didn’t want to go… and he tells me to show him on my phone on the
internet where the law says. I mean, you know, it’s common sense, right?'
‘Sometimes I think I
should sell this place. You know, this is the last place in Tibet Road where
backpackers can come. It’s the only cheap place left in the middle of the city.
All the other hotels renovated and now they have TVs in every room, right? And
their prices start at 2000 rupees, you know? Well, I really want to see those
guys find something as cheap as this and believe me that I hope they have a
terrible night tonight! Because they shouldn’t treat us like this. What do they
think that we’re like cattle or something? But then we got to the pulice station and the German guy lied,
you understand? He lied to the pulice,
telling them that they didn’t check in, right? What does he think all those
forms are for? I don’t do them to keep them, you know? I have to send them to
the Tourism Office because we also have to pay taxes, right? Fucking tourists!’
And on
she went. All my signs of alliance and coalition were acknowledged but could
not calm her down. I offered a cigarette. She sent for some coffee. She talked
some more and then retold the story on the phone… about 3 times. And only after
a long unwinding time, thanks to some coffee, some beer, a joint and a couple
of cigarettes did I have the courage to approach her again:
‘So,
now that you feel better, what do you say, can I check in again?’
‘Hah,
you know what? I’m in a good mood now so I’ll give you a better room…’
She
called ‘the boy’ – a very sweet lad, who could win any contest involving
dancing and/or re-inhaling the smoke rings he just blew out – and briefly
instructed him to take me upstairs. My previous room had been 302 but now I
went higher up in the hotel room hierarchy (and the hotel’s floors) and got to
505, a large room with a nice view towards the main road and some unique
paintings:
Incidentally,
this was also the room zee Germans
had checked in and subsequently rejected.
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