Baba Hajambo

When Zakiya asked how my father was I had forgotten that I did not have one of those things. A father. Well, she was not particularly interested in the paternal participation in my existence, but rather was going through the list of family vocabulary that we were to practice in that days Swahili lesson. Baba Hajambo? She asked the question and as I began to give the typical reply Hajambo I was faced with the fact that I knew no other response. As it turns out, in Swahili, whether or not a person is well or not one is supposed to state that they are fine and then explain the problem they are facing. Because that all seemed too complicated I thought better to search the verb “to die” in the dictionary and guess it’s proper conjugation. If I said he were dead, there would be no only explanation needed. And since he never was alive to me, that would not have been entirely untrue. So I replied, sure my dad is fine but he is dead. However, I could not quite figure out how to say “dead” so I sort of acted out the cutting of my throat with the index finger…

Many curious issues have come up since learning Swahili. We were all given Swahili names and our professor only ever calls us by these new titles. Which is slightly strange since everyone in the class only knows the other people by our Swahili names and not our original ones. Upon spotting one another on campus we shout out to each other – hujambo Musa! Habari zako Tatu! Familia hawajambo, Daudi? Our friends stare on in disbelief, wondering what kinds of secret lives we harbor in the realm of our language class. I was awarded the title Ashura. Anyway, going back to the beginning, when I could not quite explain the fact that I did not have a dad I decided that Ashura could have a father and let us give him a Swahili name too, so we will call him Fatuma. Given that Fatuma is doing just dandy I would say, ndiyo, Baba Hajambo, asante! And since Ashura has a father, I concluded that this girl would also have all kinds of remarkable talents. I mean, I appreciate taking pictures, but Ashura is an amazing photographer and has lots of money and can travel to any place that she chooses. She does not have any children but she will probably adopt a bunch of kids when she gets civilly married to her multilingual artists whose work with orphans has been recognized internationally. They will be getting married in Berkeley and will be taking their honey moon in Madagascar. You should come to the wedding! You know what? Even though I thought Swahili was difficult, Ashura is getting good, fast, because she is just that adept at learning new tongues.

And seeing as Ashura only knew a few adjectives to describe herself, she, like me, is a Poet, traveler, Sagittarius and student. She has just become a cook and has recently obsessed herself with creating dishes with coconut. She has been coaching me on how to make the best concoctions, including Mediterranean couscous which Fatuma tried as swears it is to die for...