Lambs and Nickles
The end of Ramadan has come, which reminds me of Lord of the Rings (that reference makes me both dorky and offensive). [Ramadan: holy month for Muslims, time of fasting... it's not that common in Fuquay-Varina, I know] I went to celebrate with some friends (let’s face it, they’re Mbororos, but I feel like I always talk about them). I dropped by for what was essentially an open house at Mairamou’s house. I ate some delicious fufu and jama jama (collards and grits) with some fantastic meat in it (lately I’ve been trying to be mostly vegetarian: if I wouldn’t kill it, I shouldn’t be eating it. So that excludes pork and beef). I didn’t ask which kind of meat it was, since it was… tasty. But today my coworkers were all about “Did you eat some mutton?” (Who says mutton?) After I ate, I walked out into the parlor to a music video, “Lollipop” by Lil Wayne (including the genius lyrics “She lick my body like a lollipop”)… now I’ve tried to be as respectful as possible to the time of fasting and the holy time and all that… but apparently the boundaries are looser than I thought or scandalous music is welcome as soon as Ramadan ends.
I’ve been trying to work on my anger management since taxi drivers in a certain neighborhood HATE me. Hate being defined as: charging 50f (the equivalent of about a dime) extra. Today I yelled at a driver and people on the street all turned to watch “Oooo whiteman done vex!” My local friends tell me that apparently I’m more stingy than a Cameroonian… I take this as a badge of pride, and let’s be honest, I’ve been gripping nickles since I was 5 at the flea market wearing a fanny pack. I fight with my tailor about paying for dresses since I’m dead set on not paying more than locals do… but maybe I take it too far? I honestly think maybe I lived in an economic depression in some past life. Which might prepare me for my life when I get back to the States?
