I don’t like mixing my personal life with this blog, but for continuity’s sake I feel obligated to mention that Pierre has left me. Apparently he was dating another woman for six months, all the while asking me to arrange shipment of a computer for him, and cooing sweet nothings at me down the phone. Sweet nothings were all we talked about; if we had ever ventured on serious ground I’m sure it would have come up. I’m not blameless either. Oh well. Too bad. Another reason why long-distance relationships in countries with spotty phone and internet service are for the birds.
The fact that “there was another woman” kind of came out of the blue; I spent a day or so feeling as if I had just been hit over the head with a frying pan. After work the other day, I went to get beers with Paul and Hakiza, a sports reporter. Pierre beeped me– for those of you who have never had a pay as you go plan in Africa, to beep someone is to call, let the phone ring once and hang up.
“You don’t beep a girl, that is classless,” said Paul. “When you call a girl you use your own minutes.”
“I wonder what he wants,” I said. I bought a bit of credit and rang him. He wanted to talk about nothing– to convince himself that I wasn’t angry at him, I guess. It wasn’t a long conversation.
“God is a woman,” said Paul.
“What?” said Hakiza.
“Think about it. God forgives us so much bullshit that I don’t see how it can be otherwise. He goes behind her back for six months, bugs her for money, dumps her, beeps her the very next day, and she calls him back. God is a woman.”