8 Sep 08: Guru, my coconut man

There is another coconut man, Beck, who parks his little truck right outside the Shala. Most of the students hang out there after practice because it’s convenient. I however, take a stroll around the corner to Guru’s stand. I prefer Guru because he’s got a lovely face and a ready, gentle smile for everyone. Beck, to me, looks more like a thug.

Guru is probably in his 50s, has graying hair and if it’s a cold day, has a tea towel wrapped around his head. If it’s very cold, he’ll have a beanie.

Guru’s stand is located at the corner of a major junction, under a little tree. He’s got a little shed from which he also sells sweets, biscuits, cigarettes (many Indians buy them by the stick versus the packet), bananas and little packets of laundry detergent, amongst other kinda random things.

There is a long stone bench on one side, with another wooden bench on the other, perfect for resting sore and aching muscles after practice.

On my first trip, he could only say ‘Thank you’ which he would use practically everytime you spoke to him. The next year he added ‘Good morning’ and ‘Bye’. Now he can say ‘How are you’ and when I didn’t have change the other day, he told ‘Next time’!

Guru opens his stand at about 6am every morning, 7 days a week. The first thing he does is to sweep away all the debris around his stand, even though it’s just dirt ground. He then has this ritual where he cuts a small lime in 2, saying a prayer over each half before he places them at the corners of his shed. Next, with one hand over his breast , he holds up a cup of water and saying a prayer, turns one full circle before chucking the contents of the cup out on the road. He repeats this with another cup of water but drinks it instead of tossing it out. Finally, he does this a third time, with milk instead of water, again tossing the milk onto the road.

I want to ask him the significance of what he’s doing but I doubt he’d be able to explain it to me with a vocabulary consisting of ‘Good morning’, ‘Bye’, ‘How are you’ and ‘Next time’.

Guru also makes chai on a little stove after which he stores it in a flask to keep it hot. Newcomers don’t drink his chai because they’re scared of the water he uses. He gets his water from a tap diagonally across the street. If they overcome that fear, they only order the ‘small’ chai because that comes in a plastic cup instead of glasses which he will wash and re-use.

You can tell who the veterans are. They come to the stand, address Guru by name and specify what kind of coconut they’d like, ‘water’ or ‘gangi' (meaning the flesh of an older coconut). After finishing the water, they hand over the empty shell to Guru who will split it open and scrap out the flesh. He even makes you a little ladle by chopping off a wedge of coconut husk. After tossing the empty shell into the nearby crate, they say ‘Guru, one more’. A newbie would have tossed the plastic straw along with the shell but the veterans hang onto their straws for their next coconut(s).

Today I saw a Chinese girl perched on the end of the stone bench, completely absorbed in scraping out all the meat from her coconut shell. She actually brought along her own metal spoon and there were 3 other coconut halfs lined up right next to her. The first thought that came into my head was ... Kia Su! … she must be Singaporean.

Guru is great. He remembers how many coconuts you usually order and what kind you like. He also knows when to collect your coconut to be opened and almost always has your next coconut ready by the time you’re done with the first. He is also a gentleman. When it rained the other day, he put down a plastic bag onto the stone bench before I sat down. With service like that, give me a Guru over a Beck anyday!