Pauline

A few times a week I walk the half block to the bakery to pick up fresh bread. I walk up the step to the entrance and put two one dollar coins onto the counter. A woman emerges from the back and I say. “Six rolls please”. Within seconds she returns with a clear plastic bag filled with fresh rolls. I pick them up and head out the door. I round the corner and hear someone say, “Hey, who you?” I look over and there are a group of women at the corner. One woman says, “Come. Who you?”

I walk over to her and introduce myself. She tells me they have seen me, but don’t know who I am. I explain I am Peace Corps and there is an immediate smile. And then she says warmly, “My name is Pauline”. People in the village are used to Peace Corps volunteers here. She says, “Are you replacing Ryan?” Ryan is the Peace Corps volunteer who extended twice and left just a week ago. I go into more of an explanation than I’d like. I explain to them that I am working for the village foundation and I’m not here to replace Ryan who worked with a village basketball team.

Pauline asks, “Where your husband?” I explain I’m not married. She says, “Why not?” I explain that he died. “You need a man to lay with at night to keep you warm. I find you one.”

I’m relieved as she turns the conversation in another direction. “Where you from?” I explain I’m from Los Angeles, California. Do I know Michael Jackson? O.J. Simpson? Beyonce? Celine Dion? With each name I shake my head and Pauline seems disappointed. She’s written to O.J. but he didn't respond. She concludes he must be busy in prison. I nod my head in agreement.