one night at the hostel...

“Hello Caleb”

“Hello Chamwaita” i take a seat next to Mr. Chamwaita, who sits on a stool in the canary yellow kitchen.

“How ah you dooeen?” his Zimbabwe accent is thick and smooth, like melted chocolate.

“I’m good, just studying my Greek.”

“Ah!” he laughs. “You will become a scholar, and get a good job. it is so easy to be lazy, then kids stay at home
and depend on their families.” he laughs again. it is deep, like thunder, and his white teeth flash like the lightning.
“And your bothers and sister will have a meeting about what to do with you.” i laughed at this, also.

“What did you have in your ears?” i point at the nearly inch long slits in his coffee colored ears.

“Ah have nooteen in dem, dey cut dem when ah was a boy. It means 'you have become a man'…it is like circumcision.” he makes a cutting motion and grimaces. “we dont have that...how old ah you?” he glances at me while he takes a sip of his tea, his lips purse and his head shakes right before the mug reaches his lips.

“20, I’m twenty years old.” I repeat, watching him intently.

“Ah, eet is ok for you.” He laughs again, he laughs so much. “When you are 55 it is going down.”

“What is going down?”

“The graph.” He makes the 'thumbs down' gesture. “Ween you ah young, it is going up.” He motions upwards with his mug. “And ween you get fifty, footy five fah some, it goes down, and you get little pains everywhere.” He pats down his chest and stomach. “And ween you ah 55, it is very rare for you to live thuhty more years. An’ ween you ah ety five, you ah like a little child again. It is very important to take care of your elders.”

“Mmhmm”

“So,” he says. “Deh is so much to do. You ah goin’, goin’, goin’ at dis age. You don even have to do it, it jus happens.” And he took another drink of his tea.