by Tavaan
Where the tradition began, no one is certain, but it has long been known that if you go up to a public food-stand to buy your meal, you’ll get a plate or a bowl with it.
It’s a lucrative way to make gold, especially in the Old World, where such stands are not taxed. Anyone can start one, selling goods or food, and the only laws constraining them require that they must not cause a public disturbance. More than one commoner has made a good life for themselves selling noodles-in-sauce, baked goods, or other, more elaborate foods from roadside stands.
These people keep the rough-potters in business. The rough-potters make unglazed bowls, cups, and plates which they sell cheaply to the owners of roadside stands, who can then place their food in them when they sell them to customers, without the fear of having expensive dishes being stolen. In fact, when you buy something at a roadside stand, you’re actually buying the dish, as well, usually for the price of a single silver coin. The unspoken understanding is that you can take the dish home with you if you wish (many less well-to-do people stock their kitchens with bowls and plates in this manner), or, if you eat your meal close by, you can return it to a crate of dirty dishes that most stands keep sitting out. If you return your dish, you’ll get a silver coin back in exchange. And that is where the 'clay-pot children' come into the scene.
To adults, a silver coin isn’t much. But to a child, it can mean that special piece of candy, or, if enough are saved up, a fancy hat, toy, or other such treasure. And children long ago learned that, since adults are so lazy, they can linger near a stand, notice when a person is done eating, and offer to take the dirty plate back to the stand for them. Usually, the adult will look at the small crowd around the stand and decide it’s not worth it for the price of a single silver coin. They’ll surrender the dish to the child, who slips through the crowd, deposits the dish, and stuffs another coin in their pocket!
I took the time to observe some of the children at work, and had a chance to speak to a few of them, as well. Here’s what I learned.
Being a clay-pot child is not as easy as it seems. There’s an art to it.
First, there is competition. You have to find some territory, and defend it against interlopers. One stand, especially a popular one, can support numerous children, but if too many are trying to work it, things will go awry. So you’ve got to keep your territory secure.
Then there is the approach. The customers are eating, and are expecting that to be a pleasant experience. They don’t want some little child coming up half-way through the meal and trying to take their dish away. In fact, as a clay-pot child, that’s the surest way to lose a ‘customer’. You’ve got to make the whole affair into a pleasant ‘service’ that benefits the customer. Here’s how Grey, an 11-year old boy, told it to me.
“I watch someone, and saunter up just at that point when they’ve finished chewing their last bite and are looking about and wondering what to do with their dish. It strikes them, then – ‘Oh, I’ve got a pot. Whatever shall I do with it?’, and that’s just when I smile up at them and say ‘Can I get rid of that for you?’ More often than not, they smile, thank me, and I’ve got another silver coin!”
If you’re too early, you annoy the customer, and if you’re too late, another of the children will get there before you.
Some of these children actually can make a lot of gold this way. Grey claims that one day, he made over fifty silver.
Who are these children?
Most, it seems, are the children of rather unfortunate upbringing. Grey’s mother, for instance, is a twylah, and sleeps all day. He hardly sees her. Clay-pot children, because of their circumstances, have developed a reputation of being wily and self-sufficient.
And they are not all children. Sad as it is to say, although most are children between the ages of four and twelve, I saw some older children, and even one adult in ragged clothes, attempting to earn coins in this manner. It was a poignant reminder that there are still plenty of people who do not share the wealth and affluence that so marks our age.
So next time you eat at a stand and a child offers to take your plate, you’ll know what they’re about. So, (and Grey made me promise I’d say this) don’t forget to give them a little extra tip when they so kindly help you dispose of your dishes.