Gullible Mother Goose

Tuesday, February 9: 8:33 pm

I just met Adda's boyfriend, Omar... the adjective that comes to mind is “slick.” According to Adda, he has lots of girlfriends. He seems friendly enough. We had to have our meeting quietly on the balcony so that Maman wouldn't hear. Adda explained that she doesn't like her kids having boyfriends or girlfriends because she doesn't want them to steal her kids away and leave her alone. For this reason, she hates all of her daughters-in-law.


My sister on our balcony

A couple things I wanted to write about. First, a story from Sunday night. The landlord of our building hired, some time ago, a guard to sit out front. Last weekend, he fired the guard; according to Maman and Adda, it's because the landlord is very particular and never satisfied with things as they are. Over lunch with Maman, he told her that she needed to find a new guard, to which Maman replied that she liked the old one and wanted him to come back. After some convincing, he agreed. Thus Adda, Simon and I were enlisted to find him. We believed he lived next door, in one of the shacks, so we stopped by Sunday afternoon. A few men were playing cards on the ground. When we asked if our former guard was around, they said they didn't know him. Later that night, Simon went over and told them that we wanted him to come back and guard the house, and they gave him the same response. Then some little boys ran over and told us that he wasn't a guard anymore – he had changed his job. Eventually, a woman came over (the mother of the boys) and said that they knew him, but that he was very angry at the landlord for mistreating him and did not want us to find him. Adda explained that all the children in the neighborhood said that they didn't know him; they both laughed. Apparently the whole quarter knew of the landlord's abuses.


Two boys from the neighborhood. The one on the right insisted that the guard had changed professions

Her other son, a boy of about 8 or 9 wearing tight flared pants and a Cameroonian large-collared shirt, said he had seen the man around and would go find him. He ran off up the hill. About ten minutes later, he returned saying he couldn't find him; we asked another man, who said he was in that direction, and the boy ran off again. When he returned, he said the guard was sitting in a bar on the street and he could lead us there. We followed him through the neighborhood, between shacks and up a narrow, rocky path to the main street, then up the street to a bar, where he pointed at the man sitting outside with his friends. Adda went over to speak with him, shaking his hand and saying that Maman wanted him to return and continuing working for us. He seemed hesitant. Finally, he agreed to come speak with Maman and followed along behind us as we walked back to the house (this time, along the main road). Adda thanked the boy for helping us and he ran off, satisfied to be successful at his mission.

Upstairs in the apartment, Adda and I listened while Maman heard the guard's grievances. Whenever the guard had swept the stairs, the landlord said, “You didn't do this well enough! Do it again!” When the guard tried to go to Mass one Sunday, the landlord chased him and asked why he wasn't working. He even threatened to take away his national identity card. At some point, he threatened to fire all of the guards in the area. I didn't catch all of what the man said, but it sounded like the landlord was a real asshole.

Maman asked the man point-blank if he wanted to come back and work here. He didn't respond. She asked again, saying it was a simple question. Again he described the landlord's harassment. Maman stopped him, saying, “The landlord, he's my son.” (He's not really her son.) “I'll talk to him about all of these things, we'll work it out.” She asked the man how old he was and he hesitated before saying he was 48 years old. “So you're my son, too,” she said (Maman is 62). “You're both my sons, we can all get along.” After much further persuasion, he agreed to come back and guard the house. Maman is very convincing.

Later Adda told me how this man was from the North, and in the North people don't know their ages. The man could have been anywhere from 40 or 55 (he looked younger to me, but I'm bad at guessing ages). After he left, Maman called the landlord to say he would be returning. I think he still needed some persuasion as well.

Maman explained that the landlord still needed to grow up a little and stop being so particular. She said he was younger than the guard, so he should respect him like an older brother.

Maman is like Mother Goose, bringing all these people together; even my host brother and sister are not her real children, and now she has two other sons, the landlord and the guard. She was very satisfied to have stopped the conflict – she said she likes peace and doesn't want any conflict in the neighborhood. Things have seemed to work out: looking out the window a minute ago, I saw the guard sitting outside the gate cooking dinner on a small stove with a few friends, back at work guarding the building.

My second story has to do with some things Adda told me while we were walking around town on Sunday. Adda is a dressmaker/tailor and has customers all over the city. We walked from house to house, trying to collect money for her efforts, but most people weren't home. In the meantime, I asked Adda about a man who comes to visit the house sometimes. He wears a white robe and a small round hat. I asked if he was Muslim, and she said yes, but that he was a “fake Muslim.” And what does that mean? He pretends to be a traditional healer, going to the North to find natural remedies for problems, then bringing them back and charging Maman exorbitant fees for his services. Maman, in Adda's opinion, is gullible in her old age and gives the man more and more money. Adda calls him a “bandit” and a “thief” and is furious at him for taking advantage of Maman's relative wealth. She recounted a long story in which she went to his house at a time when he was supposed to be in the North gathering medicines and caught him hiding in the back, while his wife trembled and tried to cover for him. Before he met Maman, Adda said, his house was shabby, but now that Maman supports him, he's rich and has bought all new furniture. Adda has called the police on him and hopes that they'll figure out his scam and lock him up soon.

He came over again tonight. Adda gave him a dirty look and waited a few minutes before fetching Maman from her room. Maman gave him a big plate of rice and peanut sauce, which we had eaten for dinner, and scolded Adda for making him wait. Back in the kitchen, Adda shook her head at me in frustration.

I should get to bed soon. Unbeknownst to us until today, we have two large projects due on Friday. SIT...always giving us information ahead of time.