On The Market?

(This post was originally written on May 12th, 2008)


Hello, friends, colleagues, and countrymen. It’s currently Monday, May 12th, which mean, as I’m sure you’re aware, that it is Pentecost. This is a Christian holiday that’s just really taken Africa by storm. Not so much in the States.

So the pic above is myself holding up Dadafara (a name that translates to “Uncle”, or “Big Daddy”). Dadafara is, by all rights, my youngest neighbor, and he’s just a little ray of sunshine. He tramps around the neighborhood all day, happily squeaking and taking choppy little steps, extending his arms out with hands waving in the air. Why, he could just as easily be a little boy in France chasing a little red balloon. Yeah, I think it’s safe to say that Dadafara marches to his own drumbeat.

Something else worthy of mention here is the local custom for bargaining with street venders. If you walk up to a local street vender selling shirts, for example; maybe you see something you like.
“How much for this one?” you might ask. Then the reply, virtually every time, will be something like this:
“Oh, that one there? That’s 2,500 ariary. And, you know, that’s negotiable. You can go ahead and bargain that down.” So it really takes the sport out of a good haggle! What’s the point of giving a number, an amount of money, when you *know* you’re going to immediately tell the potential buyer they don’t have to pay that? It just seems a bit redundant or something. I think the way I’m used to, is like say you walk up to a sunglasses guy on Canal St.
“How much for these?” I ask. Then nine out of ten times they will tell you what it should be, $5, and that’s what you pay. Maybe if you’ve only got $4 on you they’ll cut you a break, but otherwise it’s wham bam thank you ma’am. Buy it and move on with your life. So anyway, just an interesting tidbit on local custom for you out there.

Okay, brass tacks. With the title, I may be “on the market” for a girlfriend in Isoanala. When I first got here, I was of the mindset that I would never want a gf at my site, because, basically, don’t shit where you eat, right? Like I’m already the vazaha in town trying to work here and talk to these people, the last thing I need is everyone spreading rumors about me and a girl in the community I work in. I get enough flaming toilet paper thrown at me when I’m at home, know what I mean?

But now I’m about 5 months in at site, and it’s just starting to get a little boring. Not too boring by any means, mind you, but times might just be so much more enjoyable if I had someone to share them with. Surprisingly, like Manhattan, the Spiny Desert can be both a beautiful princess and an unforgiving bitch goddess. But even from the start of this misguided, ill-conceived idea there are problems. The thing about living out here in the country is that most people are born here and don’t leave either because they have no desire, or more commonly due to economic constraints. Then the minority of people that do have the necessary means for the necessary means for a higher education, sort of get out the day they turn 18, on to a bigger city. So I guess what I’m trying to say is, the potential pool of candidates for a gf is, by nature, quite small here. But they are out there.

Then the next problem is that it’s true, don’t shit where you eat. I mean, it’s sort of like I recognized that problem earlier in the blog and nothing’s really changed about it since then. I’d like to believe that if I met someone nice everyone would just be like a big ice-cream social all the time, but that just wouldn’t be the case. It’s a point of weakness for me, in a sense, if I were to be involved with someone at site.

And finally, most obviously some of you may be thinking, you can’t force these things. I mean, you shouldn’t just decide that “today I will start a relationship with someone.” I would suppose you can open or close the door to that possibility at any time, but everyone knows any relationship of any value is not based on artificial influences. Like what would I do, write a personal ad in the sand at the town square?
“SWM ISO nice local girl; You: no commercial sex workers, no syphilis, maximum of 3 children already born. Me: Bicycle-owner, own no cows, have means to travel at least 200 km north. All interested parties go to front door of vazaha’s house.”
I don’t think so. You know, it’s a dumb idea. I’m not on the market. You can’t force these things; if it happens, it happens. I just thought I might find a nice girl I could be a nice guy to. I wanted to be, I wanted to be… I think Paul Simon said it best:
“These are the days of lasers in the jungle, of miracles and wonder. And I don’t want no part of this crazy love.”