It started with a visit with Ismael's sister Safia and his mother who had arrived from Africa in D.C. It was the first time I had met my new mother in law and I was enjoying the visit. From there we went to Delaware to visit his friend Souleymane.
I had met Souleymane briefly when Ismael and I had only been dating about two months. I remember he asked if we were planning to get married. Ismael had been asking me to marry him for a month already at that point. He had explained that most Muslims don't really date - that was foreign to his culture. Well, getting married after eight weeks was foreign to mine!
I liked Souleymane though and was really happy for this unexpected visit. I met his wife Zelica and their boys. One of them, I believe he was also named Adam, took a liking to me. While everyone else spoke in rapid fire French, Adam showed me his Sponge Bob Square Pants coloring book and made the same facial expressions and body positions as the pictures in the book as I pointed to different ones. My own little show.
I do not understand the first word of French. Silly me. When I made my course schedule in high school, I distinctly thought, "take Spanish. When would I EVER use French??" Yes. When? Now, I tell Ismael that I'm going to go take classes behind his back so that I'll finally know what he says when talking on the phone.
Tired of a conversation I didn't understand, I sought Souleymane. He was in the kitchen beginning to cook a large meal for all of us. Great! It was lunch time anyway. After some small talk, he asked, "The women are all going shopping. You're supposed to go with them. Did you know that?"
Shopping? No, I didn't know. Far be it from my husband to clue me in. No lunch. Shopping. I hissed at Ismael for not keeping me up to date, got some money, and loaded into the van with four African women and one African teen age boy along for the ride. Only then did I learn we were headed for New Jersey.
Zelica sped along. She's a small woman, but something told me she was a power house. Three kids and going to school full time working on her RN? You'd have to be. She looked at me and asked in fast, accented English, "Janet do you like to drive fast?'
Oh yes, I do. Something in common.
"Souleymane says I do. I don't have time to waste." And with that we rocketed into southern New Jersey.
I don't even remember what I bought that day, but I remember Zelica's fierce negotiating skillls...mostly with white, American merchants who were not in the mood to haggle. She talked one guy down a few dollars on a comforter set and she looked downright displeased as she paid for it.
"You got a good deal on this," he remarked as took her money.
Her eyes flashed at him with the look I reserve for bad classroom behavior, "I don't think so." and as she pulled me along with my mouth hanging open she informed me that if I ever go to Africa I should not even pay half of what they ask for goods. One third is what I should pay.
If I go to Africa, I'm just going to invoke her name in the markets. Prices will fall on their own.
When we returned, three of the young boys had shed their pants and were running around naked. They whooped loudly and crashed around the apartment. Things sure go to hell fast when daddies are in control. My husband, in the midst of this chaos and his seldom seen friends, laid on the couch snoring loudly.
Order returned. Children were dressed. And the food was ready. Thank God. They placed large trays of food in the middle of the living room floor and we gathered around to eat. No tables, no silverware. And really none were needed. We lounged, ate, and visited. And once in a while, someone translated into English for me.
The remainder of our visit was filled with more shopping trips but in stores that don't really haggle, like Wal Mart and Best Buy. We nearly had an international incident at Best Buy though as the teen boy tried to buy parental advisory CD's. The cashier insisted that either he or his mother supply a driver's license so that store policies could be satisfied. Trying to explain to her why these people who barely spoke English didn't have such a thing as a license or state ID. Africa doesn't really work that way.
I love my in-laws and the extended African community. They have been good to me and accepted me without hesitation. It's good to belong, even if I never know where we are going.
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