Belly Laughs

The guard at the CSCOM is one of my joking cousins. And as my language is improving, the jokes are getting more and more elaborate. This guy and his wife remind me of my neighbors back on Hickory Lane, the Bonivillas. They are just hysterical, and have made me laugh more than I ever have in Dombila before. Binot, the guard, wears camlefloge every day. He shaves his head, has a gotie, but really, he doesn’t do anything but sit around, drink tea and smoke cigarettes. I’d like to take this opportunity to document some of his comments to me. The translation is not direcet, but I’m trying to get the full effect here.

“Aminata- when you play guitar, you sound like you are crying” He then imitates me wailing and playing a ballad on the guitar. “You cry and cry- you really need to just rock it and dance around.”

“You can’t even find a husband Aminata. I’m gonna go to the Peace Corps office and pay someone to get you a husband. You’re worth about $1.”

“Nah, I don’t like her. She’s too skinny. I like women with some meat on them. They gotta be fat. Like this woman over there. She’s fat. But I don’t like her, because he mind is totally gone.” (He’s refering to my homolouge’s daughter, who I am learning day by day really is a little wound up in the head)

“I’m going back to America with you.” (Now, everyone says this to me, and it’s usually followed by “I’m gonna make a lot of money”)
“What are you going to do in America Binot?”
“I’m gonna be Barak Obama’s body guard. I’m gonna wear cool sunglasses and ride around in a big, sweet, black car, and if anyone messes with Barak, I’m gonna pound them….. And I’m gonna make a lot of money.”

His wife shows up at the maternity. “Aminata, it’s time for my prenatal counsel.” “Oh really! I didn’t know you were pregnant!” “Yup. Quadrupulets.” She points to four places on her stomach and I hear the roaring laugh of her husband in the background.

It’s the Malian version of the Bonavillas!