La Vida Loca

The other day our guard was knocking on our door distraught. He told us he was leaving because he was going to kill his cousin, who is the guard of the house next door or his cousin was going to kill him. Living where we do and knowing his tribe and class of people, we believed him. He was very angry pacing around our porch like a caged animal ready to pounce on its prey; it was difficult to keep his attention in order to talk to him. We asked him what the problem was but we never got the story.

We didn’t want to lose him even though he hasn’t exactly done the best job. It’s difficult to find a good guard and one that you can trust somewhat. Plus he knows our kids and likes them.

He was done. He wanted his wages and was going to go back to his nomadic life.

I told him that if he left he couldn’t come back to work later since we would then have to fire his replacement. When he heard that everything changed. He went back out to the street to discuss the new information with the community of guards who were standing around listening in (life is not lived privately here). We heard he use a word that people never use here; he said that he loved our family. He thought that if he left he could come back later if he cousin left or things cooled down. He really didn’t want to lose his job. Jobs are heard to come by here. One of the other guards came over to tell us that things were going to be worked out. The next day everything was apparently fine and no body said anything. It was life as usual. Just another typical, bizarre day living here.

JN