I just met the Tibetan family I will be staying with. An incredibly beautiful woman, Chuki, who looks like she’s 20 and is actually 40, a man who loves to talk while he bakes absurdly elegant things, and another man who’s always smiling. There is also Chuki’s daughter who I’ve seen once or twice, and whose head is perpetually aching.
Once the formalities are done with, I ask Chuki and the baker if they manage the whole bakery and laundry thing together, and she laughs awkwardly and tells me that she’s married to the smiling man, and that the baker is her younger brother.
I realise that she probably misheard the word manage, so I ask very carefully again, “So the three of you manage…?”
Chuki is horrified. “Nono, this my brother!”
I give up and nod understandingly.