New Dehli

Jack was in Dehli. Clutching the Lonely Planet to his breast he navigated his way through the humid melee outside the airport and into a taxi with weary determination.

After they exchanged pleasantries, the friendly taxi driver (who's name was Rahul) started the conversation
"I have good friend from Australia. His name Shane. He come here for gemstone business."
"What business?"
"Gemstone. Delhi is gemstone trading capital of the world."
Jack raised his eyebrows. He didn't know this. Suddenly wary, he checked his money belt was still under his shirt.
Rahul continued. "You want? My friend has small shop. You come see."
"I'm alright mate. I might just go crash ay."
"Yes, yes, you come see. No buy. No problem."

They pulled up at a dark alleyway, as indistinguishable as any other.
"Come."
Jack's door was open. Rahul was beckoning. Jack hesitated.
"I'm sweet mate, if we could just head to the hotel it'd be great."
The driver either didn't understand or simply didn't oblige.
"Yes come. Five minutes, no problem. Just looking."

Jack reluctantly followed his new friend down the alley. They descended into a dim room. A dozen or so men were sitting on stools and smoking. They were all wearing bumbags.

Jack was escorted to sit in front of one of the most overweight men. Like a fishing tackle box, his bumbag folded out to reveal terraced compartments of glittering jewels. Five other men soon unraveled their own collections in a congested semicircle. There was no escape. Deals were being offered for one jewel, five jewels, or twenty jewels and one for free.
"Na, na, I don't really want to buy anything" Jack said in a fluster.

Rahul thought it high time to put his new customer's mind at ease.
"I call my friend Shane from Australia. He talk to you and tell you okay. I call him."
"Na it's okay, I don't need to speak to him"

Rahul pulled out his Nokia and punched in a number from a scrunched up business card in his shirt pocket. The ringing phone was thrust into Jack's hand.

"G'day, Shane speaking".
To Jack's suprise there was an Australian accent, crisp over the international telephone line.
"G'day?"
"Who's this?"
"Jack."
"Jack? Where's Rahul?"
"You're Aussie?"
"Yeah mate. I'm a gem wholesaler in Sydney. Who are you?"
"I'm just traveling. Your friend here thinks I want to buy gems."
"Mate, if it's quality gems your after, you're talking to the right bloke. Tell him how much money you have and he'll find you something nice. You'll triple it back home. Just don't get done by customs."

The voice sounded familiar to Jack.
"Wait, is this Shane-o? From Coffs?"
"Na mate, I'm from Sydney. Now .."
The phone line cut out.

As Indian men relentlessly shoved gems into Jack's hands, he thought wistfully back to his mate Shaneo from high school, who used to buy cartons of Red Bull from the servo and sell them for five bucks each at lunchtime. He could have sworn it sounded like the same guy.