Sweet Tea

After a long day in the field, I decided to wait in the shade near a small shop. Following overnight rains, the sun was out in full vengeance. While, I was waiting in the quickly receding shade of the shop for my colleagues to return, I started reflecting on the days I had spent in South Sudan. I was here for the past few months working with an International Relief Organization.

Every day in line of my work, I encounter ordinary people, very poor people, suffering people. The other day, I was in an IDP (internally displaced people) camp. The people had fled their homes and had settled down in a new environment. As they narrated their tales of woe one by one, it was distressing to hear….Some of them have not eaten for several days, some of them wanted clean clothes to cover themselves up, some wanted blankets…some even mentioned that they missed drinking tea which apparently is a luxury for them.

It is overwhelming to say the least to hear these stores. As I surveyed the motley crowd that had gathered around, I could see there were several young mothers breast feeding their babies. I could also see that after the nursing, the babies are sleeping peacefully in their mother’s safe arms, unaware of their bleak future. A child playing in the sand lifted up its head for a fleeting second and looked at me and gave me a bright wide toothless grin… it melted my heart. 

I was woken up from this reverie when there was a tap on my shoulder, it was the man from the shop near which I had taken temporary shelter from the heat. He gestured me to sit on a plastic chair that he had placed on the comfortable shade of the porch of his small shop. I gladly accepted it. He smiled and then went back inside the shop.

Few minutes later, he came out and was visually inspecting me to see if I was OK. I smiled back at him to assure him that I am indeed OK. Then he asked me “Chai?” South Sudanese also refer to tea as chai. But I was wary of drinking their tea because it is always served with full of sugar.  Because of my health condition, I do not take sugar with my tea or coffee. So I declined politely. However, he stood his ground and would not leave, unless I take his offer. Without wanting to disappoint him, I said OK, but quickly added “without sugar”. He nodded his head vigorously and went out to order tea for me from a nearby tea-stall. 

Moments later a tall woman brought a tray. Delicately balanced on it was a single cup of steaming hot tea. Specially ordered for me. In South Sudan the guests are served tea in transparent glass cups (like they do in some parts of Kerala) When she handed me this glass cup with great respect, I could see to my horror through that transparent glass, that almost more than half of the cup is filled with sugar!  “Sugar” he said gleefully, pointing out to the glass that I was reluctantly holding. Then it struck me, he had misinterpreted what I had asked for and had instructed the woman to add more sugar!

I thought about what the women in the IDP camp had said. Tea is a luxury. That’s perhaps why, this lady had brought just one cup, exclusively for me. This man had offered me- a complete stranger – the most luxurious item - tea. The magnitude of his gesture sank in. I drank the sugary tea without leaving a drop of it. The man gave a satisfying grin. 

I know that the sugar will not harm me. Because, it was served with Great Love.