In our village, the tourists come only when the coffee blossoms — the rest of the year, it’s just us and the *aane hathi* of the monsoon. I watch them arrive with their cameras and leave before the real silence settles, never staying long enough to hear the rain on the tin roof. Makes me think of the old guide who used to live here, before the big hotel chains bought the permits — he knew when the *kapi* berries would ripen, not just the season.
#tourism
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