I am a master in India

Chapter 19 The urban routine is deep

Victoria Station is full of idle people and is crowded all day and night.

People were lying on the ground, squatting in the corner, lying in all directions. Straw mats, cups, and luggage were also scattered around.

When Ron and his team were setting up the office, these people were reluctant to get up because it was one of the few shady places in the station.

It was then Rajesh's turn to appear. He swung his stick left and right, beating everyone until they cried for their parents.

The crowd rolled and crawled to avoid it, and soon a large area was cleared.

The crying of children and the wailing of adults caused a small commotion.

A month ago, Ron might have felt sympathy, but now he was numb.

There are so many Indians. Mumbai alone has a population of over 1300 million. They come from all corners of the country, and more than 60% of them can't even write their own names.

Coupled with their lazy nature and previous living habits, it is impossible to reason with them.

This is why Indian police must carry a stick, it is easier to understand than reason.

After showing off for a while, Rajesh came back contentedly.

"To treat these untouchables, just beat them hard with sticks!"

"Thank you for your hard work." Ron handed him a bottle of local ice cola.

This thing is called "Thums Up" and is a local alternative brand after Coca-Cola left India.

A 250ml bottle is priced at around 3 rupees, which is quite affordable.

Of course, this is only for him. Ordinary people probably wouldn't be willing to waste so much money.

After taking Ron's drink, Rajesh simply acted as a security guard nearby.

With him around, ordinary people would not dare to come and take advantage of Ron's land.

This is great and saves them a lot of trouble.

Without being disturbed by others, Ron and Anand quickly set up the small reception desk.

A desk, a sign, and a simple fence made of plastic and cardboard.

It's a bit simple, but it's clean and neat. These materials were all custom-made by Ron.

For example, the signboard hung on two poles reads "Mumbai Tourist Information Center".

The English name for Mumbai is still "Bombay" instead of "Mumbai".

Ron played a little trick here. When he handed the documents to the officials at the train station, the letterhead on them was Mumbai.

But the sign hung up was "Bombay". Just now their clerk came to check it and looked up, and it was all "Bombay" and there was nothing wrong with it.

One is in Marathi and the other is in English. As a clerk who is a native of Maharashtra, he reads the English version but thinks about the dialect.

The only minor flaw is that the sign reads "Information Office" instead of "Mumbai Tourism Information Company".

This was a little different from what was on the application materials, but after Ron quietly slipped him 50 rupees, the clerk started praising their reception desk for being clean, formal, and clear at a glance.

That’s right, those who don’t know what’s going on should go to this stop, “Mumbai Tourist Information Center”!
Oh, this is the official office of India.

Oh, that's absolutely right, this is exactly what Ron wanted.

Put the previously printed brochures neatly on the desk, done!

"Anand, have you found all the friends I asked you to contact?"

"No problem, Ron. They're just hanging out outside the train station, doing some small business."

"Have you practiced the English I taught you seriously after you returned home?"

"Nod your head for yes, shake your head for no! Come is come, go is go!"

"All right, all right. Sentences! Sentences are the key."

"Go to the hotel, take a ride, and find Ron if you have any problems! Look, even kids can recite these English sentences." "I'm not worried about you, but about your friends."

After hanging out with Ron for a while, Anand's spoken English and basic communication skills are no longer a problem.

As for his relatives and friends, Ron probably had a hard time. Fortunately, India already had an English-speaking environment, so learning shouldn't be difficult.

As he was speaking, the sound of a whistle came from afar, and the first express train arrived at Victoria Station.

The crowd crowded in the shade of the hall began to run to the platform in twos and threes.

Don't get me wrong, they were not rushing to get on the train. Most ordinary people couldn't afford tickets for such an express train.

These people are eager to pick up passengers. The only people who can enter the station by express train are rich people and foreigners.

"Ron, let's grab a good seat quickly, otherwise all the guests will be divided up among them!"

Anand was in a hurry and wanted to rush forward as if by reflex, as this was how he did business before.

But Ron, who was not in a hurry, pointed to the stool beside him and said, "Sit down."

"what?"

"You look like a country bumpkin, you don't look like a government official at all."

Anand touched his white shirt. He was dressed.

Ron waved his hand impatiently, "Just sit here and wait."

After saying that, he looked at his position again. Well, it was right opposite the platform and he could see it when he got off the train.

On the other side, a large number of heads began to be vomited out one by one from the train.

Every time one vomited, a few more black heads squeezed in. Soon, the area around the car door was full of people.

“Hotel! Cheap!”

"Taxi! Taxi!"

Most of the passengers who had just gotten off the bus ignored the people who surrounded them, and only a few of them were too shy to try to stop them.

There were a few blond-haired and blue-eyed foreigners who attracted the most people, and everyone knew that they were fat sheep.

Unfortunately, one of the group was a tall white man who seemed to be the leader. He looked very experienced and did not say a word to most of the local guides.

He didn't say anything, and the other people in the team never said anything either.

The white man ignored the vendors around him and quickly glanced around.

Soon his eyes lit up, "Let's go over there."

"Paul, do you know anyone here?" a girl in the team asked curiously.

"No, but I found a reliable place that will keep us from getting scammed."

Following his gaze, everyone saw a simple office located in the lobby of the train station.

The area around it was deserted, and the locals, who looked like refugees, seemed to be hiding there.

Oh, the most important thing is that there are police patrolling next to this office!
That’s right, this must be an official agency. Everyone was impressed by Paul’s sharp vision.

Seeing a group of aggressive foreigners coming over, Anand subconsciously tensed up his body, but Ron was still calm and sipping his milk tea.

Paul, the leader, looked up and glanced at the sign above: Mumbai Tourist Information Center!
It was indeed an official organization, and the young man in front of him was so indifferent to him. Paul would bet that the other party was an Indian official at the lowest level!
He has seen many people like this in other places in India. Indian officials are all of the same character.

"Excuse me, can I get some news about Mumbai?"

While asking this question, Paul slipped a 10-rupee note over without leaving any trace.

Wow, is this white guy so smart? Ron's eyes flashed with surprise.

(End of this chapter)