Half Girlfriend

golden hair and white skin.
‘No. I wanted to say quaint.’
‘Quaint?’ I said. I didn’t understand the word.
‘Different. Different in a charming sort of way.’
I failed to understand the charm of a school with leaky roofs and
furniture that was falling apart. White people think differently, I guess.
We came to the staffroom. She greeted my mother and the other
teachers. Tarachand ji brought us two cups of tea. Samantha noticed
the damp walls.
‘We will whitewash everything.The local government has assured
us,’ I said.
‘Yeah, that is fine. Can we sit outside? I’d love to get some sun,’
Samantha said.
We walked out, carrying a classroom chair each. We sat in the
fields facing the school entrance. The February sun felt warm. It made
Samantha’s golden hair shine even more. She was pretty. Why had she
left the comforts of her own country to roam dusty villages in India?
‘This is gorgeous,’ she said, looking at the rice crops sway in the
air.
‘Mr Gates will like it? We can arrange the annual-day function in
the fields.’
‘Oh, I’m sure he will.’
‘We’re a little short on funds. But we will do our best to put up a
good show.’
‘Sure. Are there enough toilets for the dignitaries?’
‘Well,’ I said, wondering what to say. In some ways, the entire field
was available as a toilet.
‘Western-style toilets, I meant.’ Samantha laughed. ‘Most of the
delegation is from the US.’
‘We will have temporary ones put up,’ I said.
‘You don’t have them at the school?’
I looked at her. She seemed more curious than judgemental. I
decided to be honest.