from bullets to bazookas

rules of engagement

So the eleventh was the last time I had been up at the site. How can I go unless I am sent? So things have just been routine out here and nothing interesting has been going on. At times I wonder why I was sent here of all places. I am sure something should come out of it. I have a few things in mind and will have to explore my options and see what comes of it.

I've been keeping myself entertained with books, music, conversation, billiards on my laptop, and watching neighbours fight. Our neighbours all around are very volatile. Just now, they're like family; they laugh, talk, share food and tools with each other, the next minute, they're ready to throw stones. Let me attempt to describe to you the dynamics of a quarrel. In simple terms, when young people quarrel, say when one strikes the other, this can be a likely exchange of words:

Defense: "Yu si, yu si?" (You see? You see?) [Bringing attention and focus to the offence]

At this point, the one who committed the offence can either feel sorry and sympathize - after explaining why he was offended;

Offense: "E! Yu no si u don mas mi fut! Yu get fo tek tem!" (You stepped on my foot! You have to be more careful!)

Offense: Oshya! (I am sorry)

At this point, the quarrel is done. If the offender however chooses not to sympathize, he can rudely say:

Offense: "A mis!" (I miss)

Defense: "Yu mis eh? A go ton mi on." (Really? I will return the offense.)

It just goes on from here until one party relents. Adults fight the same basic fight, but for even sillier reasons I feel. The last major battle broke out because a member of one household accidentally broke the roba (rubber - Any plastic or rubber container - water bottles, buckets, basins used to launder in, etc) that belonged to their neighbour. The offender in this case remained silent and did not confess to the accident. The man who found the broken roba went into a frenzy thinking it was his grandson that did it. The grandson was afraid and locked himself in a room. The man kicked the door down. The poor kid was beaten badly and there was no way he could excuse himself from this punishment.

Later that night, the man found out (I am not sure how) that it was his neighbour, a woman, that did the damage. He went ballistic. The battle now initially started as I described it earlier. It then blew up into digging up of graves, making reference to dead parents, cursing dead and living family members, and nearly putting up fists. All this unfolded around the glow of candles. It was 11:30 PM. The argument ended with the man saying, "Kom tek am from mi baksay" (Come take it out my ass), and slamming his door shut. The woman continued sreaming for another twenty minutes before she slammed her door shut, and then continued to scream some more while indoors.

Last month, Bro. Paul and I went out in search of a mechanic to come fix our generator. We inquired on the street for a mechanic, and were directed to the house of one. While sitting outside waiting for the mechanic to arrive, at the bar [usually a bafa (tent) made with tik (sticks)] next door, we met a man who was piss drunk. He was drunk before we arrived. After we arrived, he had himself another four glasses of hard rum. He then went on to smoke two cigarettes, and then light a marijuana joint. Bro. Paul called him over and attempted to speak to him about God, Salvation, and Redemption of sin. The man could not sit still, and he preached in return. He used to attend church and had given up. Bro. Paul finally decided to wrap it up and just give him the address to the church. He then prayed for the man. The man, Bash is his name, asked for us to come back and remind him on Sunday to attend church. That next Sunday, I went over to remind him. He still had a hangover and said that he did not have money to attend church. (He lives not three minutes away from the church). We did not hear from him or see him since then.

This past Sunday, I was ushering in church, and was surprised to see a sober Bash arrive dressed up and looking sharp (in a gold chain and imitation Ray Ban sunglasses). He seemed like he enjoyed the service for I saw him quite animated during the worship. Keep him in your prayers.

I am off to munch on some Kin Drayva (Keen Driver) - a local home made biscuit made with flour, oil, butter, and sugar. It is a popular snack often purchased by the poda-poda drivers. The taste is similar to the paalpodi (milk powder in Malayalam) I used to buy from the street vendors outside Cluny Convent.

posted by bthomas24 @ 1:15 PM