Chapter 12

Yesterday I went to the local cafe to meet my car mechanic…It’s kind of like his office. He goes there and hold court…all kinds of men go there to gossip and sort various car issues/ I know a few of these men from years and years of going there. I might know 3 names…I kiss kiss rarely anyone…my mechanic is thew exception…I get a hug from him too. I have mentioned him before in this blog…

He has a friend that helps him order car parts as my mechanic is not on computers ( he has an iPhone but cannot send a text or email). He also does not read or write, but he is a sweet soul and is one of my closest people here. I spend a lot of time with him while he fixes my car…he works out of the lowest level of his big stone family house…I sit on the lawn and talk to him ( French only) and play with his lovely cat Simba.

This friend is French, marries to a Finnish or Swedish woman with whom he has 2 blonde children. He speaks perfect English. I don’t think he is from this area. He always has the latest gadgets…drones and scooters, things like that…He considers himself very saavy. He is tall but plump and always messy with too long hair all over the place. He has a pasty visage…grayish. His personality is annoying…know it all, cold, unfriendly, bullish…but, he is very good friends with my mechanic.

I mentioned to my mechanic, one time, “Why do I get the feeling that ( this person, let’s call him C) C does not like me? My mechanic surprised me by saying “ Everyone says that.”…ohhhh, so it’s not me. I have to text with him sometime and he is just super short and rude. He only helps me with translating between myself and the mechanic, but now, I can talk for myself…My mechanic seems to always want to have him involved in ordering parts. I can do it myself but I need to know the correct part.

Anyway, yesterday, I had to go to the cafe to talk out a car part I need…I sat between my mechanic and C. C was head in his phone looking for parts. I barely say hello to him…eh! I sit there for awhile and man across the table comes over and wants to shake my hand…( a common thing at this cafe toward me) being American, I give a firm handshake…the man commented…I said ( in French) I am an American….

Suddenly C pulls his head out of the phone and says ( in English that no one else there will understand except for me) . “You shouldn’t tell people you are American now…” to which I said, “I’m proud to be American”….and then he went off on the US with very crude and nasty comments . Luckily he was sitting to my side…face to face I might have piped up…but I said…OK! THAT’S ENOUGH! He mumbled some more and went back to his phone. It felt violent.

Why was it Ok for him to voice his toxic opinion so forcefully? I keep my politics to myself and don’t engage….it’s all opinion anyway…I think it is only polite to keep this type of thing to myself. I would never say anything about the country where I am living about its politics...

Anyway, it was offensive and I said to him…”You seem awfully angry”…He seemed taken aback by this…”No, I’m not angry”…I said “ You sound angry to me.”…and then I changed the subject.

It bothered me all day, it still bothers me now…

Maybe it comes down to the type of person you are…sprinkle in some male arrogance for him and I remind myself how I described him. The only good thing I said about him is that he helps my friend the mechanic…so why am I surprised at his surly ways…

It flipped a switch in me though…not sure why.

It might have something to do with letting myself be clubbed by things and not responding. I understand that I was raised this way…”Little girls are to be seen and not heard..”…but I am no longer a little girl. I rarely stick up for myself…