A Lovable Drunk

Every village has one:  the village drunk.  In Rupakot, it was Mite (Mee-tuh).

We first met him at the school where he was drunkenly installing a pipe for drainage of the toilet.  He was working for a few rupees, enough to buy some of the local wine.  The local wine is not wine at all but distilled millet, processed at home and tastes like a combination of weak moonshine and mothballs.  Mite doesn’t seem to mind and starts drinking at sunrise.  Mite knows very little English.  As a matter of fact he can only say, “Yes, okay thank you,” which he says often and randomly, fitting a “yes, okay thank you” into the middle of a sentence for no reason.  He is not obnoxious, a lovable drunk, or rather a drinking man as they would call him.  In the evenings, during daal bhat, Mite visits the village people, stumbling but with a purpose, asking for a few rupees for the local wine.  He is entertaining, a comedian by birth.  He plays the flute well, and wears his smile as often as his filthy clothes. Unlike some American drunks, he does not carry a “Will Work For Food” sign, he admits he is a drinking man and states frankly that the rupees are for the local wine.  It is often said that God has mercifully assigned his special guardian angels to watch out for drunks.  I am now convinced that this is correct.  Mite should have fallen into the river and drowned many times.  He has not.

-Post by RPS

My dad with Mite

Mite going down the road a bit