I am a master in India

Chapter 2 Indians Don't Cheat Indians
Anand tricked Ron again.

It's not that difficult to get to Victoria Station, as there is a Hindu celebration today.

Some rich people chartered taxis along the street and generously gave the believers a ride.

After Anand left his tricycle with his friend, he took Ron to stop a taxi with an orange flag.

He pointed at Ron and told the taxi driver that he was a Brahmin master and the most devout believer.

As a result, after looking at Ron, the other party actually agreed to take them to Victoria Station for free.

The whole process went unexpectedly smoothly, and the driver didn't even suspect that Ron was a fake Brahmin.

But Anand did not get on the rickshaw. He went back to riding his own rickshaw.

In other words, Ron paid 10 rupees for nothing, while Anand put the money into his pocket without even having to make an effort.

Ron still hadn't figured it out until he stood in Victoria Station Square.

He was very suspicious whether Anand had agreed to the 10-fold price reduction so readily because he had known about this matter for a long time.

This was fucking outrageous. For the first time in his life, Ron began to doubt his own intelligence.

But now was not the time to dwell on these things; picking up the person was the most important thing. He had heard about the chaos at Indian train stations, which was no different from fleeing famine.

But when he looked up and saw the magnificent and spectacular Gothic building in front of him, Ron was shocked.

Is this a train station? It could be a church or a museum.

So gorgeous, so beautiful.

What’s even more puzzling is that it appeared on the streets of India.

No wonder some people say that the city of Mumbai belongs to India and yet does not belong to India, it is closer to Europe.

On the way here just now, Ron also observed that there were many Western-style buildings nearby.

Walking on the streets, it feels like you have stumbled upon the summer version of London.

But it is limited to this small area, after all, there is one of Asia's largest slums to the north.

The train station is beautiful and as crowded as you'd expect.

There were people sitting, lying, and carrying things on their heads. It was a huge crowd.

Everyone was in groups of three or five, speaking their own language, and Ron couldn't understand many of the dialects.

There are more than a thousand languages ​​in India, and 120 of them are spoken by more than a million people.

There are 14 languages ​​printed on the rupee that are recognized as official languages.

By the way, although English is one of the official languages, less than 9% of India's 5 million people can speak English.

The small number of people who can speak English are mostly concentrated in the upper castes. Most ordinary people actually cannot understand English.

Although Ron has a good talent for languages, he can only speak Hindi, English, French and the local Marathi language in Mumbai in India.

He glanced at the clock in the hall. It was nine forty-five, exactly five minutes until the shift he was waiting for.

Fortunately, they made it in time. Ron walked straight in without stopping.

There is no ticket checking at Indian train stations; anyone can go directly to the platform next to the tracks.

Ticket checking is the conductor's job after you get on the train.

There were so many people lying on the ground that it took Ron several minutes to reach the platform in order to avoid stepping on them.

At this moment, a train arrived at the station, and the crowd began to stir.

Some were carrying luggage, some were leading sheep, and some were looking for their children. The peaceful scene just now was suddenly in chaos.

The train had just stopped and the people on it hadn't gotten off yet, but the people below were already swarming in.

The shouting, crying, and screaming were so noisy that it gave people a headache.

The anxious third brother started to climb through the window, but was immediately hit by several fists, making him scream.

Even so, he didn't let go. While being beaten, he pushed the luggage in.

Ron was stunned when he saw this scene for the first time. Can little Nia get out alive?
Without any hesitation, Ron rolled up his sleeves and pushed through the crowd.

At this time, don’t worry about Brahmin masters or untouchables, the important thing is to find Nia.

Fifteen minutes later, Ron, sweating profusely, looked blankly at the sparse number of pedestrians.

The train had already left and most of the people had dispersed, but he didn't find Nia!

Missed it? Or was it that skinny Nia couldn't squeeze in?
Ron quickly walked to the ticket window to inquire about the latest flight.

As a result, the people inside told him that the train he was actually waiting for was delayed.
"How late will it be?"

"I don't know, sir."

"do not know?"

"Yes, no one knows. The preliminary estimate is four hours, but it could be longer." Four hours
Ron suspected that he had heard it wrong, and after confirming it again, he got the same answer.

Shit, is this Indian time? Train delays are measured in hours.

Now he has two choices, either wait here or go back to sleep.

Four hours, and still no sure thing. Ron suspected he'd get a heat stroke before he even saw Nia.

It’s better to go back first. He turned and was about to leave, but a quarrel attracted his attention.

"I said, I'm going to the hotel. I don't understand what you're saying."

"I'm cheap and I'm the best tour guide in all of Mumbai. Trust me sir, you need me!"

"I'm sorry I don't understand, please let me go!"

"You want a cheaper price? No problem, 200 rupees, no less!"

A white man who spoke English, and a brown-skinned local who spoke Marathi.

The two of them were talking at cross purposes, their voices growing more and more excited. Look, they were almost quarreling.

Seeing that the white man was about to call for help from the police not far away, Ron intervened at the right time.

"Sir, do you need help?"

The pure and fluent English instantly made the old white man feel like he had found a life-saving straw.

"God, finally there's someone who speaks English. Tell him to stop bothering me, or I'll have to call the police for help."

"OK, OK." Ron comforted him softly, then turned around with a smile and faced the native who was staring at him in amazement.

"Anand, what a coincidence, we meet again. But, weren't you planning to come to the train station? Why are you standing here now?"

"Ahaha, it's you, Ron. I'm a rickshaw driver. I go wherever the customer needs me. You've come at the right time. Tell him to hire me as a tour guide. I can provide him with the best service."

Anand seemed to have forgotten what happened in the morning, and his face now showed only genuine joy.

What a superb acting! Ron smiled.

"Where's my 10 rupees?"

"Ah?" Anand's round, fat face froze for a moment, but he quickly blinked as if nothing had happened.

"Ron, I've dropped you off at the station. Our deal is done."

"So I told this gentleman that you weren't going to leave and were planning to follow him?"

"No, no, no!" Anand waved his hands quickly. He glanced at the foreigner with a conflicted look.

It's obvious that this is a fat sheep, and a very rich one at that.

Although the other party spoke English, he understood the name of one hotel.

The Taj Mahal Hotel, a famous five-star hotel in Mumbai.

Anyone who can book a place like this must be super super rich!

Anand even suspected that this deal would be enough for him to live a carefree life for half a year.

"Okay, Ron, you win. I'll give you the 10 rupees when I get home. We both know where each other lives."

"Very good." Ron, who had won the game, now had a clear mind.

It's not easy to make money from him.

Next, Ron began to explain to the white man what had just happened, such as how Anand was a good man and a good guide.

Since he came to India for tourism, he must need such services.

After figuring out what was going on, the old man named Smith finally let go of his hostility towards Anand.

"I do need a guide, but I'd like to hire you, Ron."

"Me?" Ron pointed at himself in surprise.

"Yes, you are the most suitable candidate. That short guy looks like a fraud no matter how you look at him."

Seeing the foreigner's gaze sweeping over, Anand, who was waiting on the side, immediately put on a flattering smile.

yue~, down.

Smith became more determined to hire Ron.

Being a guide? Ron raised his eyebrows. This seemed like a good idea. He was short of money right now.

"Mr. Smith, it's my honor to serve you. But there's one thing I need to confirm with you first. My price is not cheap. From now on, it's 50 rupees per hour."

"Of course, I believe that high-quality services should be paid for with reasonable compensation."

The two sides shook hands lightly, but Anand next to them became anxious.

(End of this chapter)