A quick motorbike ride from campus to Phebe Junction costs about 25 LD and there you can buy basic necessities and drink palm wine under a tree. A small cup of palm wine costs $10 and a big cup costs $25 LD.
Friendly stranger to Palm wine lady dealer: “I’d like to try a small bit of palm wine, please.” Palm wine lady to friendly stranger: “$10 small cup. $25 big cup.” Friendly stranger again: “Yes, I would only like to try a little bit. Hmm, will it make me drunk?” Palm wine lady: “Yeah, you get drunk! $10 small cup. $25 big cup!” The small crowds of locals sit under a huge and shady cottonwood tree. “Will I go blind? Why is it murky white in color? Why is an ant floating on top? Can’t she filter that out?” All these thoughts raced through my mind. I took the big cup and took a swig. $25. Big Cup. The small crowds of locals all toast. I just realized I was at the Pelle version of Cheers. The G-Star Production Company is maybe not quite like Cheers. I never remember an episode where kids were welcomed or where coasters said such interesting lines like “Love the Ladies cka Lady Lover.”
A ragtag group of children found me sitting under the tree. In Pelle, one said: “My mom is going to buy me a pair of eyeballs tomorrow” pointing to my glasses. Two girls touched my cheap silver necklace and I pretended to gobble up their hands as they grabbed at my necklace. It became a game of keep away. After a few minutes I grew bored. They tugged on my necklace a few times hoping to squeal with delight, but I ignored them. I wanted to be teacher for a while. I wanted to play Simon Says. Like “Simon says; touch your ear. Simon says; touch your nose.” However, we were communicating with nonverbal cues and a translator. First I had to gauge if they knew them the parts of the face in English. “Show me your nose,” as I pointed to my nose. They all touched their noses. I took my hand down and said, “Show me your nose. Nose. Nose,” they looked perplexed. I quickly touched their noses and said, “Nose, Nose, Nose. This is your nose” “Show me your ears,” and they immediately pulled their ears and said “Ears!” I could have stayed longer, but my ride was ready to say goodbye. I walked to the center of camp where dried out hotdogs rested on a coal grill beneath a thatch roof. “Come inside.” Plato invited me into Harriet’s hut to eat. This man is always eating. I stooped down to find a crude bench and table with three women and a man eating kitali soup. I had just drunk palm wine and didn’t want to press my luck with too much culinary variety. I declined. Then the children from before had followed me and were standing in hut giggling and reaching into my backpack. A coal pit was still fuming from dinner and I did not want them to fall over on it. They wanted to play. I walked outside and they followed. I played rocket ship. Lifting a few kids in the air and I made a swooshing sound and pretended they were in flight. Then more kids showed up and a crowd of four or five Pelle children drew close smiling with curiosity. “Oh, boy! I can’t pick up all these kids. I’ll throw my back out.” I thought to myself. Some probably weighed forty pounds and I have a hard time carrying a sack of dog food from the cart to the scanner at Wal-Mart. “Just leave it. I’ll scan from here.” Says the Wal-Mart Checkout Lady. They are always so helpful with the detachable scanner.
Young Girl points to Friendly Stranger then points to the dried up hotdogs on the grill. Friendly Stranger to Young Girl: “Noooo.” I walked back inside and she follows. She lifted up my bag and found two bags of plantain chips. “They found your chips. Give it to them.” Plato said. Her mother quickly ushered her out. I walked out too. Outside she sat on a low stool and looked impatiently at me. Her crossed arms and pout said a lot. “Chips! You are not leaving without giving me something. I played with you and made you laugh. Now, give me the chips! I opened the bag and said. “Now, you must share.” I counted loudly the amount of children standing around and modeled it for her. I took a chip and gave one to each child, saying “One, two, three, four, five.” She screamed back “Six, seven, eight!” Wow, she was quick! Her mother waked out and I gave her one bag of chips. She watched and then sat back down on the stool. Next she began sharing the chips with every child. My work was finished and I walked inside. Plato was finishing his meal and talking about birthday ads at the television station. “Your birthday will be announced on Cuttington University TV for only 200 LD.” Plato explains. A young woman named Bee Williams nods her head. It was a good deal. “With a name like Williams her ancestors probably left slavery in the United States for freedom in Liberia. Now descendents of those American slaves sit in a thatch and mud hut, covered in coal dust, discussing televised birthday announcements.
No comments:
Post a Comment