Third Time's a Charm or Third Strike You're Out?

It is a slight understatement to say that I don’t get out much these days. We are blessed to have a very nice yard that little T and I play in every day, but many days can go by before I see what lies beyond the 15 foot walls that surround our house.  95% of me is okay with this…it is the way life is in this place at this point in time…we knew it before we came and we are learning to adjust. The other 5% of me longs to get out and shop, take walks, visit friends, etc.  Not that there is much to do here in M-ville, but still. 

One thing that we took for granted in our previous location was our interaction with local people.  We came to despise it some days because we couldn’t get away from them – they were constantly at our gate, would find us at work, would follow us as we went on walks, would interrupt our picnics.  But though, it was bothersome at times, we were constantly around people. Our language was better for it, our stomachs’ were sicker for it, yes, but the cups of tea, the meals, the weddings, funerals, visits, etc. were golden. 

I miss that here. Along with not getting out much comes not interacting with people much. Not only that, but even if I were to see a woman I knew on the street, I wouldn’t recognize her under her blue garb.  So, I have been thinking about a friend, asking Dad for a friend…and hoping that I didn’t mess it up.

See, a few weeks ago when A and I went out on our motorcycle date, we stopped at the one store in town that sells cheese.  Little T loves himself some cheese (his newest word by the way) and we go through it quite quickly.  Since this shop is on the other side of town, we took the liberty of using the moto to head over there quickly.  A stayed with the bike on the street while I walked up the steps of the store (most shops here have open fronts).  As I was looking around and picking things out I overheard a woman asking the other woman she was with if she thought I spoke the local language. Then she asked the shopkeeper if he knew.  He replied that he had no idea.  Finally she turned to me with her question.  I replied “a little”. 

She laughed and we began to talk. After a sentence or two, she switched to nearly flawless English.  As I sat there stunned, she went on to tell me that she had taken a few English courses and now works as a cashier in a bank in town.  Thursday (like your Saturday) was her day off and when she did her shopping.  We talked for 10 minutes or so and then she said goodbye as she finished up her purchases and walked away with her friend.  I was still smiling about it when I climbed back on the bike and told A. He immediately asked what her name was and if I had invited her over. And that is when I felt very sad because I realized that I had just talked to a piece of blue cloth – my very first interaction with a woman in M-ville outside of my compound…she initiated it and spoke English, etc – and I had let her walk away.  I had no idea what she looked like, what her name was, which bank she worked at, etc. 

The whole next week, I thought about my ‘friend’, kicking myself for not being more proactive.  Imagine my very pleasant surprise when I got two blessings the next Thursday. Our friend R invited me to go to the bazaar with her and A offered to hang out with little T while we were gone. They did manly things like went to the motorcycle shops and the mechanic…manly men they are!  Anyway, R and I had a great time. We took our time as we looked at fabric and scarves and outfits and shoes and gold necklaces and bracelets and earrings and tiara and all things ridiculous.  As we walked along my second very pleasant surprise (first one being trip sans baby) came and tapped me on the shoulder.  Again, I could just make out eyes behind the mesh screen and a somewhat familiar voice asked, ‘hi, do you remember me?’ It was my friend again and she had chased us down the street to catch up with us.  We talked for quit a few minutes and had a very nice conversation.  This time I got her name (F) and the name of the bank she works at.  Eventually, she said goodbye and away she went.  R and I continued walking, peeking in shops here and there…suddenly my friend F was there again and told us to come in this shop that was owned by her family.  We went in and then had to speak English with her brother for 10 minutes while his uncle brought an item from another shop we were looking for…slightly awkward, but we made it out eventually. 

We happened to run into A and little T a few streets over so we all made our way home together.  When I excitedly told A about running into F he asked again if I had invited her over.  Once again, I kicked myself and had to say no. 

So, here I sit, two weeks later…hoping that I will run into F again and be able to invite her over for tea. I have to think that running into her two weeks in a row was a good sign…and that maybe the third time will be the charm?  I am asking Dad to once again place this woman in my life, cause it is pretty dang exciting to have the possibility of a friend for a girl who doesn’t get out much!