Mama was right. Today is Friday, and it rained during the night and then again this evening. By the time we were up and about, the rain had stopped, and though the ground was wet, there was no mud—at least not at Kundayo. There was thunder from time to time during the day, but no more rain fell until about 9:00 p.m. The day was much cooler than they have been, so even the occasional power outages didn’t bother us much. The electricity has been more sporadic than usual this past week, but never off long enough for everything in our teeny tiny freezer compartment to melt.
As usual, John made a trek to the city center to buy bread, liquid dish soap, a frozen chicken, etc. He also made sure that he bought some samosas for his lunch as well. I don’t know how he will manage without them when he returns to Spokane. I had a big juicy peanut butter, tomato, and avocado sandwich for my lunch. I don’t know how I will manage without perfect, cheap avocados when I return to Spokane. Now that it is March, thoughts of returning to Spokane have new import for us.
Mama was out in her spot early today, and she was ready to continue the discussion of men and marriage which we had begun yesterday.I am ambivalent about what I should or shouldn’t report because a lot of what she said was extremely personal. She’s not your average Masai wife, that’s for sure. She was raised in town as the daughter of an entrepreneur, and got married at age 17. (I have yet to discover the details of the match and marriage.) She has always had her own money, so she and Mr. Kundayo own their property jointly, which gives her an unusual amount of power for a wife. We got into discussing names, and I found out her given name is Julianna. Just perfect for such a regal woman. Then, we discussed the choosing of names for children, and if I understood correctly, their custom is for the husband and wife to alternate between a name from the husband’s family and then the wife’s. Mama’s first child was a girl and was to be named Rachel after someone from Baba’s family. However, Mama didn’t like that person and changed Rachel to Lillian. In the same way, Martha (after Baba’s sister) became Nancy, and Wilson (Baba’s namesake) became Allen. Only Maso’s name was not changed. When I asked how she could do that, she said her husband didn’t pay attention when she filled out the government forms, so she wrote the names she wanted. That made me laugh so hard that Mama laughed and laughed, too. John came out to see what was going on, and stayed to hear what else we might get into. Mama provides me with an amazing view of reality in at least one modern, middle class Tanzanian family.
 | |
| Mama does enjoy palmiers. |
I had taken out a plate with cookies for a treat, and once those were gone, and we had more or less worn ourselves out talking and laughing, Mama excused herself saying she had to go to church. She attends the same big Lutheran church that Ray does, and he’s told us she’s the only one in the family who ever shows up. She must be pretty faithful, as she has a women’s group as well. Still she has a healthy respect for traditional magic, as I would too if I lived in her shoes. One of the nicest moments of the afternoon came when she told me that she likes it that I don’t judge or criticize cultural differences. How could I with such a fascinating woman?
No comments:
Post a Comment