AT NEPAL-INDIA BORDER – As the afternoon heat gives way to a pleasant evening breeze, a palpable change begins to happen in the midst of crowds pouring in from India to Nepal via an open border.
First, there are the Nepalese, mostly women, returning home from a quick shopping trip to cheaper groceries and goods on the Indian side. Two women in colorful saris shared a heavy bag, each holding a handle. A man carries a fan in the back of a trailer, its wings spinning in the wind; another rides his bike with a watermelon strapped to his back.
But as it started to get dark, a large part of the crowd crossing the border was men, who mostly arrived empty-handed. Men working for the government, neat shirts and polished shoes in the morning, who were driven to the border in their cars. And the men rode their bicycles with heavy feet and heavy thoughts, their everyday trading tools dangling from the bag on the handle.
These are the Indian men who enter Nepal for a drink – or as much as they can squeeze in before the police blow their horns and roadside bars close at around 9pm
Border between India and Nepal, forbidden times of political tension, is an example of how an open policy helps border people enjoy broader economic options. Take the demand for motorbikes, a preferred means of transport here, as an example: Parts are cheaper in India; Fuel is cheaper in Nepal.
That openness has been especially welcomed by local drinkers since the Indian state of Bihar, which is home to more than 100 million people and shares a more than 400-mile border with Nepal, Prohibited alcohol 2016. A small industry of bars and restaurants has sprung up just across the border in Nepal, catering to Indians of all walks of life looking to quench their thirst.
The ban in Bihar, supported by local women, aims to tackle rampant problems such as alcoholism, domestic violence and squandered income. The penalties for getting caught drinking alcohol were severe. First-time violators must pay a fine of hundreds of dollars or spend a month in prison; Repeat offenders are sentenced to one year in prison.
The government of the state premier, NitishKumar, says the ban has helped reduce violence and crime, although its proximity to the border and ease of travel have reduced the effect of the law.
The ban has also raised challenges. The judiciary is congested with alcohol cases. The state is losing hundreds of millions of dollars each year in alcohol taxes. And alcohol is still available – smuggled and sold for double or triple the price.
An Indian farmer, queuing on a bench at one of the roadside bars in Nepal with two bottles of cheap grain wine in front of him, said the prime minister won the election because women voted for him on orders. prohibit alcohol.
But the farmer, Mr Gupta, who shares his last name only because he plans to break the law by bringing alcohol back to the border with him across the border, said the policy simply increases the price of wine, as it is still available but at two or three times the price.
While still on the Nepal border, he bought a third bottle to go, wrapped it in a shawl and tied it to the back of his bike. As he staggered back to Bihar, he assured everyone who could hear him that he was not drunk.
The border area is vast, and the variety of the evening wine scene has grown all over Nepal.
The well-to-do from India drive to the town of Janakpur, or the sought-after hilly areas, home to air-conditioned bars, imported alcohol, noisy – and sometimes obnoxious, scenes.
In a hotel bar in Janakpur, as drunken men gathered around the table, they interjected with shouts of “from the bottom of my heart!” by addressing the waiters with derogatory names when they order in the next round. In another hotel, the unpleasant feeling of being discovered drinking in Bihar still haunts two men who drove to lunch: They poured beer into glasses discreetly placed under the table.
Umesh Yadav, a Nepali university lecturer from the border town of Jaleshwar, said the economic opportunities of an open border outweigh the minor hassles that come with an increase in drunken customers.
“When they’re drinking, it’s obvious that sometimes there’s going to be trouble,” he said. “But the police are always there.”
On the Maruwahi border, most of the drinking takes place in the mango orchards that hug the divider, at the picnics, all around what’s in the bottles, not the food basket.
The men in the small crowd joked and laughed as they devoured plastic bottles, their bicycles parked nearby. Others crouched under the trees as they received bottles from vendors doing their rotation – bartenders on the go. Some drank in the quiet companionship of a friend – or in their own thoughts, gazing at the fading sun over the shoulders of a group of Indian border guards in the distance.
In a village about a mile from an orchard, a bar owner said he recently installed CCTV cameras for security – but had to remove them after a few days when his customers disappeared. , out of concern that they were being filmed.
The touchline at Mahottari was an equalizer of sorts. All kinds of crowds mix at the dozens of shacks that simply serve as bars.
“We sold education before, now we sell alcohol,” says Kundan Mehta, who ran a book and stationery shop in Bihar before founding Navrang Hotel on the Nepali side about five years ago. with a smile. “I told them, ‘Enough study, son, go get a drink now.'”
Inside, a small television strapped to a bamboo pole broadcasts a live cricket match. The walls are decorated with posters of a Bollywood actress, a Hindu spiritual leader and charging horses with inspirational quotes to keep pursuing what you want.
One customer, Ravi Kumar, wanted to drink Golden Oak, an inexpensive local cereal.
Mr. Kumar, a farmer, pointed to India and said: “You know you can’t get a drink there.
He crosses the border about twice a week for a drink — more often than that wouldn’t be affordable, he said.
“If you do too much” – he raises his fist with his thumb sticking out in front of his mouth, sign language for drinking in this part of the world – “then you need to” – he rubs his fingers Right hands together to signify money.
Ankit, 22, who works for a local bank about an hour from the border, spent a long week working on time completing hundreds of loan collections. He took the bus straight to the border from work to enjoy delicious local fried fish. Ankit, who was told on the condition that his surname not be used as he would illegally smuggle some alcohol back into India, mixed the beer with a bottle of local liquor.
“It helps me release some of the stress,” he says.
When Ankit paid his bill, he bought two small bottles to go. A Nepalese woman in an orange sari is waiting at the counter, ready to earn a small fee for her upcoming smuggling mission.
“Let’s go,” Ankit said. “I’m late, I’ll miss the bus.”
“Roji-roti,” replied the Nepali woman, smiling. Local slang, it literally means “daily bread” and implies one’s livelihood.
She tucked the bottles into the belt of her sari and led the way.
Birkha Shahi, commander of the nearby Nepal border outpost, is understanding. He says his force is not really hunting for one or two smuggled bottles, but rather is focused on large-scale smuggling.
“We get tired of catching them, but they don’t get tired of trying,” he said. “Roji-roti.”
