I am a master in India

Chapter 60 You are violating human rights!

Ron arranged Smith's group of students to stay at the Indian Hotel in Xiangtu. Although it was not as good as a five-star hotel like the Taj Mahal, it was clean and spacious.

Under his special care, Xiangtu reserved the best rooms in the hotel, each of which was air-conditioned.

Even this group of picky students couldn't find anything wrong with the place, except that they complained about the hot weather.

After all, it is India, a third world country, so everyone lowered their expectations long before coming here.

But just when he led the group of students to the front desk to register, some of them started arguing with the waiter about taking a shower.

"What happened?" Ron asked, squeezing over.

"This hotel is forcing workers to work. They are violating human rights!" A blonde girl stood up and loudly accused.

"No! Miss, you misunderstood. They did this completely voluntarily." The waiter explained helplessly.

"Wait, please let us sort things out first. Maybe there is some misunderstanding." Ron stood between the two of them.

Forced labor? Human rights violations? Why do these words sound so familiar? Have Westerners been playing with them since childhood?

"Look at those poor people outside, they are delivering water to the hotel under the scorching sun. They are delivering bath water. No one wants to work in this temperature. You must be forcing them!"

Following the direction of the blonde girl's finger, everyone saw a large wooden barrel lying flat on a wooden cart right at the door.

Four or five Indian men gathered there with clay pots to collect water. When the pots were full, they would go upstairs one after another with the pots on their heads.

Seeing everyone staring at them, these dark-skinned men smiled shyly and then pressed their bodies against the wall, fearing that they would accidentally block the corridor.

"They do deliver bath water to their guests," Ron nodded.

"I knew it, you obviously have tap water! I don't even want to use bath water like this!" Not only the blonde girl, but other students also frowned, with a hint of disgust in their eyes.

"Why don't we ask these water delivery workers?" Ron smiled and didn't explain further.

He waved to a familiar-looking Indian man, who walked over quickly with a water jug ​​on his head.

"Rabu, what are you doing?"

"Delivering water, of course."

Rab didn't speak English, but Wilson, who had been to India, knew some Hindi and was translating for the students.

"The hotel has running water, why do you still need to deliver water?"

"Ron Baba, everyone knows that Mumbai often has water outages. But with us here, you won't lack water." Rab's expression was very proud. This is their job.

"How much do you make per water delivery?"

"Three rupees." He gestured.

"How many trips will it take to fill the rooftop tank?"

"Five or six times. We're very fast and won't delay your shower."

Everyone fell silent after hearing Lab's slightly anxious tone.

"So you earn money by your own strength to support your family?"

"Of course," said Lab, with a smile on his face, "because of tourists like you, we have food to eat. Welcome to India!"

The last sentence was the new English that Lab had learned, and everyone could understand it.

"So, classmates, how many times a day do you take a shower now?" Ron turned around.

"Three times!", "Four times!", "No, at least five times!" No student felt ashamed of taking a bath anymore.

These men are strong, proud and healthy. They do not beg or steal, but work hard to support their families.

They ran into the traffic, showing off their strong muscles, attracting the glances of some young Indian girls.

They held their heads high and looked straight ahead.

Hardworking people always gain the favor of others easily. This group of young students from Europe and the United States are no longer as naive as they were just now.

They lined up quietly and went through the check-in procedures, but they were still whispering to each other.

After enduring the torture of the stench and high temperature, the students gradually began to feel curious about this contradictory city.

They discussed where to go next to try delicious food, or which temple had stunning sculptures that were worth visiting.

Soon, the students in the hall followed the waiter upstairs and began their first shower. Xiangtu, who was behind the bar, gave a thumbs-up and nodded at Ron.

As expected of being the most popular travel reception company for foreigners in Mumbai, they were able to coax this group of students around with just a few words.

Ron received Smith's students this time in accordance with the usual practice of tour groups and adopted a prepayment mechanism.

There were thirty students in total, each paying £1500, and Ron was responsible for their accommodation and meals for the next week in Mumbai.

Scenic spots and other recreational activities are not included in the price, which is quite flexible. Students can choose the different routes arranged by Ron according to their own preferences.

Just like he did with other tourists, Ron prepared packages with different prices and everyone could choose according to their needs.

When Ron received their information and made hotel reservations, he had roughly looked at the information of these students.

Every family is middle class or above, and the accommodation fee of 1500 pounds is not too cheap.

But this is a big business for Mumbai travel information companies. The current exchange rate of the pound to the dollar is around 1:1.5.

Thirty students would cost 45000 pounds, which converts to about $68000. If converted to rupees, the total is even more staggering: 210 million!
This is the official price. If you buy it on the black market, you can get a discount of at least 250 million rupees.

Damn, Ron's total income in the first six months was only more than 80 million rupees, and this one order directly accounted for more than % of his total wealth.

The tour group still makes money. The most important thing is that these students will have other expenses in Mumbai.

Just thinking about it made Ron's heart tremble with excitement.

If all goes well, after sending these students away, he can consider buying land with his savings.

Thinking of this, he simply picked up the phone, "Hey, is that Kavya?"

"Ron?"

"It's me, I want to ask you for some information."

"What's going on? Let me be clear, I'm just an intern reporter and don't have access to any inside information."

After graduating from Los Angeles University, Kavya came to Mumbai to seek a job in a newspaper.

She had been a freelance writer the last time they met at Leopold's, but Mary had said Kaavia's dream had come true recently, and Ron had thought of her.

"It's nothing confidential. I just wanted to ask you if you know anything about the land deal in central Mumbai?"

"You mean the textile mill that just went bankrupt?"

"Yes, I saw in the newspaper that they were planning to sell the land."

"Are you interested in that piece of land?" Kavya sounded a little surprised.

"I'm a little interested. You know, I want to try my hand at something other than tourism. Otherwise, my company would be shut down during the rainy months."

"This deal isn't that simple. I heard the textile mill owner is asking for 10 million rupees. He owes a lot of money to the bank and is counting on this land to repay his debts."

"Please help me find out about the owner of this textile factory. Phone number, address, etc. will do."

"Wow! It seems you are serious!" Kavya exclaimed.

"Let's talk about it. If the money is insufficient, I can ask the bank for help."

"It's not a difficult task, but there's one thing I need to remind you of, Ron."

"what?"

"I heard that some gangs are interested in this land and are putting pressure on the textile factory owner. With their involvement, others don't even dare to make an offer."

Ron was stunned, "Okay, I'll pay attention."

Damn, are there gangs interested in that crappy place?

The city center he had just mentioned to Kavya was not the CBD area of ​​South Mumbai. Even if Ron multiplied his wealth several times, he still couldn't afford the land there.

The city center here refers to the geographical center of Mumbai, that is, the central area, which is north of Dharavi, the largest slum in Mumbai. The airport is also nearby, which is not so prosperous and even a bit backward.

Ron didn't expect that there would be gangs interested in this shabby place further north than the Dharavi slum.

Forget it, no matter what, let’s first feel out what the textile factory owner has to say.

(End of this chapter)