Mr Mahmod wanted to share a drink with me. He took me across the road to what he said was his brother's sugar cane stall. I don't know if they really were brothers - after all, Mr Mahmod was now my big brother and vice versa - but I tried several times to pay the owner of the stall for the juice and he refused to accept the money. I was nervous about drinking the juice as it had ice in it which I suspected my stomach wasn't up to yet; the lady behind me, wearing a burkha, asked for a drink for her child. I gave the child my drink.