A Lonely Lady

One woman living outside Mokolodi has a very isolated existence. She had come with her husband from England for a project. They have since split up but they still live together for economic reasons. The former husband I find to be puerile and petty. There are plans that the man’s girlfriend move in, again to save rent. I was invited over several times for dinner by the woman. I did not want to and ducked the invitation. I eventually relented during a week when the house was otherwise empty. We ate rice and a boil-in-bag curry chicken and had a bitter lime-green cooler. For the better part of three hours, the conversation was pleasant on the thin surface. Her living and relationship status were brought up more than once. When I was ready to leave, the women propositioned me very directly. I declined and made up a story to justify my disinterest. This didn’t work immediately and I slowly left while talking. The women insisted we have dinner at a restaurant later on.

She comes by some days to sit and watch me work. She talks mainly about how she is tired and her living situation is bust. I am responding less and less. She talks about how she can’t stand to be at home. One evening she came by my cabin, far away from her own house. I was luckily out and told her clearly that this was not alright.

One worker and friend here is adamant that I ‘hook myself up’. What she means is that I should date one of the ladies in the park who is more established; who has a car and more money. This type of relationship is a cultural norm and the age difference is much less important. I give little reaction to this suggestion. One of the older women she suggests is the one watches me work.