Dingo at my baby!

So my behind me neighbors are pretty sweet. The first time I met the husband, I was out with some other neighbors helping them peel potatoes. They kept talking about how one of the dogs was being very “aggressive” and then the son full on hit the dog with a stick slightly smaller than a baseball bat. To which all of the girls around me, including myself, went ‘Whoa! Don’t!’ So hard! That poor little dog. A few minutes later the dog had run off and the neighbor walks by carrying a shot gun.

‘Whoa whoa whoa whoa. What’s going on? What are you doing with that?’ I ask, my mind trying not to be alarmed and figuring out how it is possible someone here has a gun.

‘Oh that dog has rabies. So it could hurt someone and will die anyways, so I’m going to shoot it. Is that bad?’

I blankly stare back and really just manage to grunt something, because I have no idea what words to use to respond to that.

That was that, I presume he killed that dog. A few days later I see him come home in the evening holding a dead bird in his hand and apparently the equivalent to a bb gun in his hand. I followed him home, chatting about that and the dead bird and how apparently he likes to hunt but he can only do it from the left side because one of his eyes are bad. And he uses the bb gun because it’s not really dangerous. He’s also the Physics/Chemistry teacher at the school. He talked to me about hearts the other day and asked if I was any good and knew any strategies and I was like…of course I do. And then we talked about more games and apparently they have checkers and battleship here, which I am very excited to play with him. The only other game I’ve learned is a card game that doesn’t seem to have any rules or a point.

His wife teaches sowing, is from Cote d’Ivoire and we had a really interesting conversation about how it was hard for her to move here because people aren’t as nice here as they are there and how I thought that was incredible since to me everyone is the nicest person I’ve ever met. She also talks with a bit of a lisp and it’s charming. They have two kids that are adorable and really hilarious.

Most importantly though, his mom lives with them and she is educated. It’s kind of incredible how rare that is. I didn’t even realize it was rare until I met her and then realized I hadn’t met another old lady who could speak French well, had all her teeth and had clearly been to school. It could be because she grew up in Cote d’Ivoire and not here but still, all I want to do is ask her a million questions.

Yesterday she was telling me about a beach in Cote d’Ivoire, so beautiful that it was clear God loved us. She also told me a lot about the taxis there and how they worked. She told me about some leaves that she made into palm oil (the only oil ever used here and also I feel like ever single tree here people take the leaves, and can make something to eat out of it, it’s incredible). She is amazingly vigorous and spry for a lady probably in her 70s or 80s who has 8 full grown children. A few who live in Marseilles and Belgium, places she’s visited, which is yet again astounding to me. And now she’s here, staying with her son for a while, enjoying life. I stayed for dinner one evening and they opened a bottle of wine and I asked if it was a party and she was like, ‘no I just like a little of the blood of Christ before I go to bed, it helps me sleep well and have great dreams.’ Fantastic.

I hope they don’t get sick of me because I think they already are my favorite.