Breakfast boy in Quetta

Walking timidly out of the alleyway, I headed for the nearest breakfast place to get my bearings. I sat on a rope-bed outside a place filled with rickshaw-riders and wheel-barrow pushing labourers. Immediately a young guy joined me, and helped me order. We had a brief chat, him explaining he was just in town for some work. He then somehow convince the owner to not accept my payment, and instead pay for both of us. This time still stands out as a case where this money is precious to him, he must know I have loads, there is no way we will ever see each other again, yet still he refuses to let me pay. After leaving him, I went to the train station, had another chai with a guy who was coincidentally in the same taxi from Zahedan to the Iran-Pakistan border. This time, I leapt up halfway through the chai to try and pay…again I was denied permission by the owner. Something I will definitely be doing more often myself on this trip and in Australia.

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