Gossip - 4

Saturdays were always Pi Parteii’s busiest day of the week. She was an accountant at the Department of Fisheries and worked five days a week. Even though all her sons were grown up and were able to take care of themselves it always looked like some disaster had struck their house and it was left to her to set everything right, and that meant a lot of running around on Saturday. It had been two weeks since Cecilia’s wedding, and the house was still a complete mess. Her three elder sons were as clueless, as hopeless as their father when it comes to household matters. Couldn’t even cook a single meal, didn’t even know how to operate the washing machine, and couldn’t be relied upon to do something as simple as sweeping the floors. Cecilia had helped with the cleaning and shopping, but now that she was married Pi Parteii would have to look for a maid again. It had been almost ten years since they’d last had a maid, and she dreaded the thought of some stranger coming and living with them. She’d heard enough stories about maids stealing and running off with the family’s valuables. Her husband, thickheaded as usual, had not seen the need for a maid. Did he think the house could run by itself? Trust men not to understand.

This morning she had got up at six, and after cooking the morning meal had set out for the Saturday morning market at Thakthing Bazar which was very crowded as usual. Some of the old women who were still carrying em, the traditional long conical hand woven basket, made moving very difficult. The narrow road was lined on both sides with vendors selling all kinds of vegetables, flowers, chicken, pork, beef, fish, makeup, secondhand clothes, bread and cakes; and she could see the blind man sitting at his usual spot singing a sad song about death.

She made her way to the corner where the doughnut lady always sits, and was not surprised to see Pi Hrangi there buying the doughnuts for her boy, Siama, who she heard was a big fan of the small little coconut doughnuts.

“Pi Hrang, you are early this morning,” she said cheerfully.

“Yes Parte, I like to do my shopping before it gets really crowded. I'm almost done now, I only have to buy some pork and then I can go home.”

“Let’s go together then. You always have the best judgment when it comes to buying meat,” Pi Parteii said, and started walking. They walked slowly, pausing every now and then to buy some vegetables, to say hello to neighbours and acquaintances, and looked at a few secondhand clothes.

“I am inviting Cecilia and Zotea for dinner on Monday. It’s Cecilia’s birthday, and her brothers wanted to celebrate,” Pi Parteii said, holding up a pair of garishly pink rubber slippers. The vendor had an amused look on her face, but on seeing that Pi Hrangi was watching her very closely, pretended to yawn.

“How is she coping at her new home? I was so worried about her, with so many people coming and going every day, and she is still just a baby,” Pi Hrangi said.

“She is not complaining, she said everyone is very good to her. But she still finds it hard to sleep at night; I think it’s the new bed, the new environment.”

“How is Zotea? Is he a good husband to her?”

“She said he’s very good to her, but she also said it gets a bit lonely during the day when he goes off to work.”

“Cecilia is very lucky getting a husband like him. Nice secure government job, a very active member of the church and community, doesn’t smoke or drink, and always very polite to elders.”

“I know, if it was anyone else we’d never have let her get married so soon. She’d always wanted to continue her studies but Zotea came along and suddenly all she wanted was to get married. And you know how her father is, saying yes to everything she asked for.”

They reached the meat vendors, and Pi Hrangi examined the pork carefully, asking the vendor a hundred questions before finally settling on a piece she liked. Pi Parteii immediately asked for the same.

“Parte, you must come for choir practice tomorrow. The Women’s Conference is coming up next month, and we need as many members as we could get. You know the young ladies would never come, they say it’s for old women.”

“I don’t know, Pi Hrang, you know I've never been good at singing.”

“Nonsense. I’ve sat beside you in church many times; I know you have a good voice.”

“Speaking of church, here comes the pastor,” Pi Parteii said,

The pastor was an elderly gentleman who looked as if he would be more at home working in the fields rather than preaching from the pulpit. He was wearing an old wrinkled shirt and a pair of faded old trousers. On his head he wore a khumbeu, the old men’s hat, and was carrying a polythene bag of chicken feed. You'd never have guessed he was a much learned man with an MA in Pastoral Theology from Cambridge.

“Good morning ladies, you look like you’ve been shopping for a while.”

“Good morning Pastor,” Pi Parteii said, “Are you done with your shopping?”

“Yes, actually this is my second trip; I forgot to buy the chicken feed the first time. I must be getting old.”

“Ha ha ha,” Pi Hrangi laughed dutifully, “Of course you are not old. I am the one who is old.”

“How is choir practice coming along? Are you ladies singing that favourite song of yours again?” the pastor said.

“It’s a surprise,” Pi Hrangi said, “This year we are coming out with something completely unexpected.”

“I guess that means we’ll just have to wait and see,” the pastor said, “I must be off then, my wife must be wondering why I took so long to buy a bag of chicken feed,” and he walked away.

“I heard the pastor’s daughter left her husband and came home. Can you believe that?” Pi Hrangi said, opening her purse to pay for the pork.

“Is that so? I thought she was a very God fearing religious woman, not the type to leave a husband of fifteen years.”

“They say her husband got some girl from his office pregnant, and she said she couldn’t live with him anymore,” Pi Hrangi said in a low voice, looking around to make sure no one had overheard her.

“That is so shameless of him,” Pi Parteii said in an equally low voice.

“I heard that he drinks a lot, and she’s been suffering quietly and overlooking his various affairs. This time he’s gone too far, getting someone pregnant,” Pi Hrangi said, “Parte, I must be going now, remember the choir practice is at four o’clock tomorrow evening.”

“I’ll try to come,” Pi Parteii said, and they went their separate ways.