Sunday 24 September 2017

What Happened – Part II

This is a detriment to anyone's
mental health

On that same field visit, I faced a room of around 20 seniors who had been abandoned by their families for having outlived their usefulness.  At the end of my scattered speech about strength, catharsis, and encouragement in togetherness (all translated into Maashi and possibly stalagmites, capitalism, and encephalopathy in Togo), and much ululation and clapping, I prepared to leave and wondered who was supposed to be treating whom.  At the door, I was halted by a decrepit old woman with her feet wrapped in square blocks of what looked like dinner napkins.  After speaking forcefully to my translator, she turned to me, grasped my hand with unexpected strength, and made a speech that ended with pointing firmly at her cheekbone.  As I have been eating deep-fried sweet bread for quite some time now, I decided she must be calling me out on my skincare routine.  I opened my mouth to answer in Swahili--

“She’s thanking you for coming.  And she’s telling you she’s blind.”


Thursday 14 September 2017

What Happened – Part I

Having to keep secrets makes me less of a writer. 

Staying out late, having to be let into our building by Butter’s smirk and pretend-casual, “So did you have a hot date?  Did you kiss?!” is a level of punishment that I don’t deserve. 

Yes, and no, respectively.

Throwing my newly-washed fit from our fourth-floor drying line was likewise undeserved - although he claimed it was preemptive revenge for the next night, when he had to step out of the shower to let me into our building again.  It’s a good thing friendship is all about keeping score.