Patel's cherry tree

Kumkum and Patel somewhere in our travels 

A story about an old tourist guide cum driver from Northern Macedonia named Patel and his love for an equally ancient cherry tree.

In September 2022, Kumkum and I were on a ten-day trip to Albania and Northern Macedonia. The first five days was spent in travelling around Albania. Our driver cum guide Adrian did not have much English. Also perhaps he was not too much of a history buff and had simply learnt some basic facts about his country to feed his tourists with. We were not very impressed. The second week would be spent in Northern Macedonia. 

We were assigned a driver named Mr. Patel for the N. Macedonia leg of our travels. Both Kumkum and I were mildly excited and curious -- what is a Patel doing in N.Macedonia driving cars? At least we hoped his English would be better than his Albanian counterpart; no point hoping that a Gujju Patel would be able to tell us anything about the history of the country... we were resigned to having to depend on Google and the Internet to fill us in on that front as we had done all the while we were in Albania.

But Mr. Patel when he arrived did not look Gujarati at all. He was tall and wiry and had European looks, he was also much older and spoke good English, but slowly and in a low tone. One would have to concentrate to hear what he was saying. As soon as we were on our way, we asked him about his Gujrati connection. He looked bewildered... what is Gujrati? Why do we think he had a Gujrati connection? He had never heard of Gujarat in his life, and was absolutely certain her had no such connection. But you are a Patel, we insisted. Yes, there are many Patels in Macedonia, but they have no connection with India, he told us. Well... we were not completely convinced but we let that go...

All the way between Tirana and Ohrid, Mr. Patel spoke non-stop about the history of his country. He had a cheerful manner and answered all our questions, pointing out interesting landmarks by the roadside and telling us more. It was clear that he had a lot of knowledge about his country of which  he was a proud citizen. Patel had grown up in the town of Ohrid so he knew the city inside out; The Ohrid lake is huge and looks almost like a sea at certain points. It was a pleasure discovering the antiquity of the city in the company of Patel, who was so keen to tell us more.

The next morning Patel was waiting for us on the dot at 9 a.m. wearing a cheerful smile on his face. We had a packed itinerary and was soon on our way. We were going up the hills to the ancient monastery of St. Nahum near which the source of lake Ohrid lies.  Kumkum was still a little sleepy and decided she would sit at the rear, leaving me to chat with Patel about local history. 

Please help yourself to the food in the packet on the back seat, Patel cheerfully told us.

The packet contained a whole assortment of packed cakes, cookies, savoury crunchies, nibbles and chocolate filled croissants. Just the sort of things one needed to keep up one's spirits for a long journey...Bottled water and small bottles of juice were in another packet. We had just had breakfast but could not resist temptation... 

After about an hour, we stopped at some lovely woods where Patel helped us to get our fill of apples, plums, mirabelle plums and some other fruits by shaking the trees laden with fruits that nobody seemed to care very much about. Later, even while humming a local folk tune the whole time, he brought out a flask with three cups and poured us some tea; The next day, during a similar mid-way stop, when there were no fruit trees available to get fresh fruit from Patel brought out a container with some ripe cherry tomatoes and slices of cucumber. 

From my own kitchen garden, he proudly announced. Help yourselves.

This happened every day we were with him... if someday it was a cucumber, on another day it would be some paprika to go with the tomatoes... and the tea in the flask was really tasty and very welcome... And the big assortment of packed foods on the back seat would be replenished every morning. No other driver had ever offered us any food, leave alone home made tea and produce from his own garden! 

Soon it was clear to us that Patel was very special. His English was excellent. 

Where did you learn your English? I asked him.

 

I learnt it in my youth from Dutch girls who came to visit Ohrid. I am also a movie buff and watched many American movies when I was young. That is how I learnt to speak English.

Amazing, but what is the Dutch connection, I wondered.

Well, that is a curious story, Patel told us. A Dutch writer named A. den Doolard  came to Ohrid in the early decades of the last century and wrote about the city and N. Macedonia. His novel, The Wedding of the Seven Gypsies published in 1939 made Ohrid famous among the Dutch and made many Dutch tourists began to visit the city. And they continue to do so till the present day. 

Patel's knowledge was amazing. He even took us to see a tiny one-roomed museum to den Doolard in the city; we also chanced upon a monument to him at the far end of the promenade along the lake in Ohrid. 

Well, I am very interested in history and politics. I have also travelled a bit in neighbouring countries. I love meeting and talking to tourists. That is why I enjoy being a tourist guide, Patel added.

We were very impressed. 

We asked him about his own life -- he told us he had worked all his life driving tourists around but had retired some years back. His wife worked in a local kindergarden, and she was still working. They had grown up children, who had families and homes of their own. 

The two of you are roughly the same age as my daughter; she works in a bank here. 

That explained it his fatherly and protective attitude towards us. He always addressed us as 'young ladies'. 

Once before he dropped us back to our hotel he showed us a gate between many houses in a crowded but central part of town and told us that that was his home. 

Our house is also old now like us and on the verge of collapse. But we still love to live there since we had built it ourselves, brick by brick, he said.

He invited us in but we politely declined... we did not add to the troubles he was having anyways. 

Our children want to build something new there, but we have told them to leave us alone as long as we are alive, he told us.

When he was working, Patel used to earn about 300 euros per month, his daughter earns roughly double that at the bank; her salary is considered very good by Macedonian standards. When he retired, he was offered a paltry 100 euros per month as pension, all the money that he had paid into his pension fund had mysteriously disappeared. So he refused to accept the pension and hence was completely dependent on his wife's salary after his retirement. But recently his wife broke her leg and was laid up in bed. And the Kindergarden will not pay her for the time she is absent. So he had decided to take up another tourist job to tide them over their temporary crisis. That is how he got assigned to us!

Who takes care of your wife when you are with us the whole day, I asked him one day. 

Nobody, he cheerfully told us. Our children have to go to work, they have no time. The two of us have breakfast together before I leave home to come to you. I cook some lunch and leave it on a table next to her bed. She eats on her own. I cook dinner for us after I get home in the evening.

That's tough, I commented.

We have no choice. But it is not so bad. In any case, it is only two more weeks, then her cast will come off and she will be able to walk again.

He continued,  Then I can happily go back to being retired once more.

Ohrid lake is huge. Many big hotels including the Holiday Inn and the Marriott are located along its banks... the drive along that part of the lakefront has almost a Marine Drive like flair. It is always busy, with lots of things happening at all times, parking is next to impossible. The central part of the city including the main square etc was located just beyond. One day Patel offered to take us for a drive along that main artery. We were worried about parking but not Patel. He drove straight into an empty parking space right next to the entrance of the Holiday Inn Hotel. A red plastic chair was lying upside down on the lot, presumably put there by the owner of the space as a sign that it was reseved. But Patel undeterred. He drove straight into the lot, got out, removed the chair, and then parked his car. And asked us to get off and got on a little walk along the promenade.

But what if the owner turns up and creates trouble, I asked Patel.

No he won't, simply because I am the owner, Patel replied.

Stop joking, I told him. 

I'm not joking, Patel told us. This is my parking space because it runs along the boundary of my house.

He turned to point to a little gate by the main road. That is my entrance, and my house is there, a little towards the back of the plot.

Both of us were dumbfounded. What? Should we believe that our driver Patel was the owner of this plot of land in the most expensive part of town right next to the Holiday Inn Hotel? A veritable goldmine!

Seeing the disbelief in our eyes, Patel explained, Do you see that big cherry tree there, just beyond the gate? Well, I have grown up with that cherry tree, we have played under it as kids, eaten cherries every year from it, and it has become my friend. Everyone wants to buy my plot, give me a huge amount of money and 'develop' the plot! 

But the first thing they want to do is to cut down the tree. That I will not allow. So I have refused to sell the plot to anyone as long as I live. Even my children are cross with me because of this. Because if we sold we would get a lot of money and we could live in luxury and comfort for the rest of our lives. 

Posing with Kumkum somewhere during our trip

Our children do not have the same bond with this cherry tree. They simply do not understand. And they think I am a fool. And refuse to have anything to do with us. Let them.

That explained why none of their children were helping them even to tide over the crisis caused by the wife not being able to go to work. But Patel was unfazed.

I cannot bear the thought of cutting down that old and beautiful cherry tree. It would be like someone wanting to kill me because I am old now. So I have told everyone that the two of us will continue to live in our old ramshackle house at the back as we have done all our lives. Once we are gone our children can do what they want with the plot. 

We did not know what to say.  We could only bow our heads in respect and amazement at the simple logic of his argument and to his love for that beautiful and huge cherry tree in his garden that he guarded with his life.