the gentlemen

Stray dogs lye lazy on the grass verge. Palm trees stand tall and fat along the roads. Cars bustle along with attitude. The radio strains out the faintest squeaks, almost indistinguishable next to the loud English accent from the older Scotsman in the seat next to me. Cars behind get impatient as he slows (apparently unaware) to point out ‘the university,’ ‘the tree,’ ‘the gas station’… illustrations to a larger story.

First stop: the geology department to drop off some papers.

Second stop: the country club. An old gentleman exits a car and greets me ‘how do you do?’ the words drip off his tongue in thick upper-class English. It transpires that his life here consisted of running various plantations, and age has not lessened his air of authority.

We enter, and, suitably attired – no jeans, sneakers or flip-flops allowed – continue up the impressive aged mahogany staircase to the dancing room, set up for lunch. After introducing me to some of ‘the boys’ we took our seats overlooking the bowling and cricket greens with a further view of an impressive old Indian style building.

After we ate we were joined by a couple of the men for some coffee. One; a south Indian gentleman, the other; an Australian, and both equally fascinating. The average age at the table must have been around 70, but that made no difference to the flow of conversation. The Indian left early and a friend joined us, evening out the sexes and ages a little more.

The Australian gentleman solicited most of my conversation, and I was more than happy to oblige. He was a highly intelligent, well traveled, perfectly mannered man. Most flagrant of all was the immense amount of patience and humility that this man possessed. He was the sort of person that one rarely comes across and I had all the time in the world for him. I only wish I could have spent more time with him, as I left feeling encouraged and at ease.

Admittedly, I had a few preconceived ideas about the sort of people we might meet at the club, but given that my uncle is not of that sort I knew they must not all be that way. Amazingly, most of them weren’t. (Or at least not the ones I met.) They were just fascinating old men full of treasures they have accumulated over a lifetime, but are willing share with anyone who is prepared to take the time to listen.