I was so overwhelmed with how fragrant and cheap the mangoes were at the Sydney Fish Market yesterday that I decided to buy three fat ripe ones from one of the market stands. Little did I know that we’re technically not allowed to bring fresh produce over state lines, so if we were to strictly follow Australian laws, I was not supposed to go from New South Wales back down to Victoria with my mangoes in hand. Chris informed me of this when I met him at the end of his work day, and I was devastated. I told him we needed to eat one of them and just risk getting the remaining two confiscated through airport security later that evening.

We went back to our hotel, where I went up to the hotel bar and asked them if they had plastic cutlery to give us. The bartender politely gave us some after some wait time. I returned back to Chris where he was sitting in the lobby, and he asked where the plates were. Silly me, I had forgotten we needed plates! So I went back to the bartender with my mango in one hand and the cutlery in another, and I asked him if we could borrow some plates. He looked at me from one hand to the next and asked me how I was planning to cut that mango. “With the plastic knife you gave me?” I said, smiling back at him. He smiled and laughed, shaking his head. “No, no no,” he replied. “I will cut the mango for you.” Someone who looked like the manager said they could not give me a real knife to cut, but they’d happily cut it up for us. I got so excited at this; this man was going to cut a mango I brought in from the outside just like that, no charge, no nothing! Most places would never do this for you. He cut it neatly, cubed the mangoes and peeled the skin back so professionally (“Of course he knows how to cut a mango; he’s Indian!” Chris exclaimed). He presented it to me and told me to enjoy, and I thanked him and brought them back to Chris.

As an American, I felt a strong need to tip him or give him some sort of compensation. He just did this service for me and expected absolutely nothing, but I felt compelled to do something, anything for him to show my gratitude. I know he would not accept a tip given local customs, so I thought about what else I could do.,. I could give him one of the two remaining mangoes! I took one of them after we finished eating and presented it to him. He laughed again. “Do you want me to cut another one for you?” He asked. No, no! I said to him. “This is for you to take home. Thank you for being so kind as to cut my mango for me.” Of course, he said it was unnecessary, that he was happy to cut it for me and could not accept my gift. “I have many mangoes at home,” he said. I insisted again and said he must take it, so he did. He thanked me profusely and I said goodbye to him.

I will always remember this man as the bartender who cut my mango and expected nothing from me. This completely made my day.