One kind of good day
November 4, 2010
Today has been a good day. Most of the days of the past month have actually been wonderful, with work starting back up again and the weather turning beautiful. Today I did a morning’s worth of work (which I know I never talk about–perhaps someday I’ll finally get around to talking about what my job really is) and then enjoyed an afternoon of a different sort of work. The sort of work that involves maintaining my sanity and peace of mind (doing the little things that I enjoy in my house) and the sort that involves hanging out with the locals (the little things that I enjoy outside my house).
Some highlights from today:
When I arrived at the town clinic to do my usual “real” work of sitting with the nurse and preparing information on health lessons and projects, I found my host aunt and my little host brother Anwar. What a nice surprise! I played with Anwar some while my aunt chatted with the nurse. He was telling her she really should do some exercise, at which point he used me as an example. “Look at Hinde! She’s sportive, she does exercise, she’s in good shape.” Apparently my host aunt may have an issue with her blood pressure. Next thing I knew the nurse was saying to prove his point we should arm wrestle. I sat on one side of his desk and she sat on the other, and we gave it two shots. The first time my aunt stood up and of course pushed my arm to the desk. We all laughed as the nurse explained that wasn’t how it’s done. The second time around she actually had me a little nervous for a split second before her arm promptly hit the desk. Always nice to have some fun at work.
Later on I was walking over to my host family’s house when I passed one of my absolute favorite people in town, this old OLD lady named Ijjou. She’s gotta be the oldest person in town, and it would appear that she has only gotten spunkier with time. She still fasts for Ramadan and still sits outside so long as the weather isn’t too rough. Thankfully she’s been out almost everyday lately. Running past her is always a delight.
Well, today it turned out to be just us. She was sitting in the front door of her house, maybe waiting for the other ladies of the neighborhood to come out before moving to their usual evening spot. As we finished with the normal greetings she grabbed my hand and pulled me closer, starting off on a long lecture about how I have to get married and have kids before I’m old. “Skr zaman-nm,” as they say here, “do/make your time.” She insisted that I better not wait until I’m old and I–here she just coughed in the way that she does to poke fun at old people, cough cough cough–I better get on things, I shouldn’t say, “Not this man, not this man, not this man…” until I don’t end up getting married. I better just do it. I told her, “In sha Allah.” Heh, we’ll see. I don’t think so, but I sure enjoy her lectures. They typically bounce back and forth between how I should get married and have kids before it’s too late and how she wants me to bring her a young man. The first time that lecture popped up I quite mistakenly thought she said I should bring a young man for myself. I was quickly corrected on that point. No, in fact, she wants a young man for herself (“Haven’t you found me a man yet?”) and an old man for myself. Oh, Ijjou.
The third big highlight of my Thursday came while I was kicking a tennis ball around with my host brother Hussein. We were in the covered corridor that runs from one side of the house to the other. A very good place to kick the ball because it prevents Hussein from losing it up on the roof as he’s inclined to do. Unfortunately today the door to the bit l-ma, the bathroom, was open… and I just managed to kick the ball so that it bounced in through the door. I thought, “Well, what are the chances that it made it to the toilet? Can’t be that likely…” But of course as Hussein took longer and longer to emerge from the room I realized that I was probably that unlucky.
“Come and get it for me,” he said when he finally came out. “The one who hit it has to get it!” And I said, “No, you get it!” I think he actually would have tried then and there if he had any idea how to make it work. Honestly I’m glad he didn’t just walk in and stick his hand down into the toilet. (This isn’t the porcelain throne that we have back in the States, people, this is the version that’s just a hole in the floor with some raised spots for your feet, in case you didn’t know.)
He ran off to his mom to see what he should do. After she expressed surprise, a little dismay, and a good bit of disgust, she told him to go grab a plastic bag and stick his hand in it in order to reach down for the ball. I was so thankful to hear her say that! Sometimes I wonder about cleanliness in my host family’s house. As much as I love my host mom (and I DO, believe me), she doesn’t always have the most hygenic practices.
Hussein impressed me, he really did. He put the bag over his hand, folded it up over his arm, and stood above the toilet. He reached down and gave it a good shot to get the ball out, but didn’t have any luck. The darn thing was the perfect size to sit tight in the toilet hole. He looked up at me apprehensively, and I told myself he had suffered enough. I mean, I did kick the ball and it just happened to bounce through the door, off the wall, off my foot. I couldn’t believe the kid actually tried to get it out! He’s usually pretty lazy and searches for ways to get other people to do what he’s been asked to do (which sounds a lot like my real brother, come to think of it…). I stuck my hand into the bag and took it (and noticed that it was already rather filthy from its first trip into the toilet hole, ugh…), reached down and tried to grab the ball out. It was a little tricky and I didn’t get it the first time. Alhamdulillah, I got it without too much trouble the second time around. I walked back out to my host mom and asked if she had any bleach. I figured that was the only fathomable possibility for saving the ball. Sadly, no bleach, so we determined the ball had to go. She told me to chuck it up onto the roof. Hopefully no one finds it any time soon… Hussein was naturally upset at the loss of his ball. I told him I have a ball like that one from America that I’ll bring, which will more than suffice. And of course as I was leaving tonight he asked when I would bring it over. Hopefully I remember to take it next week.
I know that last little bit might not sound like a real “highlight,” but I did get a good laugh about it. It’s not everyday I get to do crazy things in my host family’s house. And it’s great to feel at least a little like I’m a part of the family. I enjoyed trying to talk Hussein into washing his hands extra well with soap afterwards, especially since I know he doesn’t wash his hands nearly enough. Someday I’ll get the guts up to tackle the topic of toothbrushing. He’s been warming up to me quite a lot lately with all the playing we’ve done together. This week that involved kicking the ball and, for the first time, throwing the frisbee. That’s right, I’m playing with kids. It’s not so bad so long as they’re someone else’s and I get to leave after a couple hours.
