I spent one recent Saturday in search of a good freezer. My neighborhood phone credit seller and all around go it guy suggested I go to Treichville and scour the streets for a good deal. It sounded infinitely easier than the maze of Adjame and so the princess and I set off for adventure.
I took a cab to the "appliance section" of the rue de commerce and got out in front of a random store. I understand and don't understand the concept of what seems to be the typical African "street of commerce." It is organized by topic- all the appliance stores in one section, all the plumbing supplies in another and so on. It makes for easy searching on the customers part, certainly, but I can't quite figure out how it benefits the storekeepers.
I walked up one side of the street and down another, browsing windows, sidewalk merchandise and occasionally going in to check things out further. It was quickly clear I'd landed in the Lebanese section of town. I noticed men and women sitting outside their shops, hovering in their doorways or taking care of business inside.
Some called out to me and invited me in, some watched me warily as I passed and some offered a quiet smile but said nothing. The merchandise was similar and the prices the same. As I walked into one store, I saw a woman who appeared to be sitting on a large throne with her wares arranged all around. The tiles were sparkling white and, in contrast to the other cramped stalls, there was ample space to move around and inspect the appliances. I felt all eyes on me, being the only customer at the moment, and I made my way quickly through the store. I eyed the price tags from a distance and didn't linger long over any one item. By then, I'd already seen what was available. The queen bee called out to me as I headed for the door.
"Those aren't the prices, madame," she said with a smile. I nodded my head. The reason that buying a freezer becomes an adventure is because not only do you have to locate one you think might work for more than a month, you have to negotiate a fair price and figure out how to get it back to your house. Negotiating is not my strong point, no matter how many rules and strategies I have developed. At best, they are mere coping methods for a painful process.
I'd actually come with the intent of not buying. I wanted to see what brands were available, compare sizes and get an idea of beginning prices. The section of the street I was browsing was not long and was nicely tree lined. Small and shady, but I was already tired. Too much of the same with not enough difference in options or prices. None of it really fit my budget.
The shopkeepers were friendly, though their level of interest in me varied. Most of them had seen me going in and out of the other stores and knew I wasn't purchasing. I heard snippets of conversation as I passed, many assuming I was French. One large man, sitting in a plastic chair, called me over.
"Bring the poupee," he said. It took me just a second to realize he was talking about the baby. Mbalia had been the recipient of smiles and goochy-goos all throughout our adventure. Babies have a way of making connections.
'You're not French." I'd only said a few words before he made his accusation. "Give me the doll," he commanded putting his arms out. I laughed to stifle my inital response which was, "you must be nuts if you think I am handing my precious over to a stranger laid up on his lounge chair outside his store eating greasy chicken." I don't actually know if he was eating greasy chicken but he looked like the type who would eat greasy chicken and lick his fingers afterward.
"She will cry,' I said simply. Mbalia has gotten to that stage where going with strangers induces confusion and crying. A normal and safe baby response.
"Is she sick?" the man wondered, obviously unable to comprehend why anyone, baby or not, wouldn't be overjoyed to sit on his lap and be greased by freshly licked fingers.
"A little," I smiled and wished him a good day. He politely wished us a good day back and we continued on our journey. But he wasn't the only one to reach out and try to touch or kiss or remark on 'la poupee.' I found it odd and invading and was happy to jump back into a taxi and make my way home- freezerless.
