There's a small grocery on the ground floor of the next building, run by a man
from Kerala called Shaji. A big supermarket opened 5 minutes from our flat in March. It has
trolleys, a bakery and cold air. I tried it for a whole month. Everything was cheaper by
a few riyals and I found it all myself. Nobody said hello. Nobody asked about my daughters.
I paid a machine and left with my bags. By the 3rd week I was walking past
Shaji's door on my way to the car park, and I felt guilty. He didn't say anything.
He just waved from behind the counter like I was on a passing bus. The 4th week I forgot my wallet
at home and still went to the supermarket. They needed a card and I had none. I went to Shaji and said,
I forgot my money. He said, take it, pay on Thursday. That did it. I went back. It's a smaller shop,
so some days he doesn't have what I need. Last week there was no coriander and no curd, and I went to
the supermarket for both, quietly. I looked over my shoulder the whole time like a man doing something he shouldn't be doing.
Next day Shaji asked, no curd yesterday? I said, no. He said, it came this
morning, I kept 2 packets for you. I now carry cash for Thursdays. I owe him
14 riyals from last week and he hasn't mentioned it once. The supermarket sent me a
card in the post with a free bag attached. It's still in the cupboard. My daughters
want the free bag for school. I told them we'll see, and changed the subject. Shaji's
shop is closed on Friday mornings, and that's the one morning I feel a little lost.