Nightguard

“It’s broken,” pointing down at the slingshot, “Completely.”

This would be my night guard.

And That would be the … security system?

“Oh. Um… Where can you buy that… Thing….?” Thing: the best synonym because Arma seemed too weapon-y to be used to in substitution for the word Slingshot, which is not part of my vocabulary.

Seriously? Is there a full grown adult man standing here asking me to buy him a slingshot?

He stands, slanted and staring off to one side avoiding direct eye contact, a stance that would indicate submission and complete lack of assertion in the States, but here in Moz it is meant to show respect. His eyes are big (buggy, really, but that isn’t a really flattering description) jaundice-yellow balls poking out over his nose. Age… somewhere between 35-75, but definitely an adult. And that is definitely a legit, albeit stretched out, Slingshot; not a forked stick with a rubberband, but a professionally carved Y and a wrapped leather handle and hooks for the thick rubber strip and ammunition cradle.

This all happened when I first moved to Manica province, site number two, new house, new neighborhood, fresh start. Though the house/complex is shared with other employees of the university, through a strand of chance happenings I lived essentially alone in the complex for my first month. Just me and night guard. Me and …Drunk… night guard.

Yes, maybe I should start at the beginning of our relationship. The moment the primary tenant in the main house left to temporarily teach in another city at a different campus, night guard started drinking. A lot, or maybe just a little bit of the really strong homebrewed stuff, either way you could smell it miles away and he couldn’t talk straight. During the nights, it was me (in lockdown in the house) with this drunk man wandering around the courtyard or chatting with the other guards outside of the house. During the days, he would pass out on his nest on the patio… sometimes with pants… sometimes not.

As the more time went by from the primary tenant’s departure, various guard responsibilities started to go by the wayside: the yard dirt was left un-swept and he started augmenting his patio nest: first with the big pieces of cardboard from the recently purchased fridge and stove, then small boxes and jars, which were later filled with various bits of plastic paper metal. Essentially most of the things that I was putting in the trash pit was ending up, rearranged and reorganized, on the patio nest.

Then he stopped sticking around, some nights he’d be there and some nights not. The crucial guard responsibility: just being there, what not being done. One night I woke up to neighborhood guards tweeting their whistles, and laid in bed petrified as I heard them out on the street apprehending a thief who tried to rob the house next door. What if that had been my house? It was time for an intervention.

I scolded (firmly but nicely) this adult-man-guard. What if it had been this house with me alone? What if there had been nobody to alert the other guards? When you have a job it also means you have responsibilities. And though he was inebriated at the time of the Talk, he evidently took something in because he showed up the next day asking for a fix-up for the slingshot. He was ready to take his job seriously.

I gave him a pc issued rape whistle and 50 Mts for the slingshot. The more I thought about the situation the more I thought: maybe slingshot really is the weapon of choice for him, because alcohol plus a machete really sounds like a bad idea. Gun would be even worse.

Despite these new on-the-job-toys, it was clear that it was time to get a new night guard. With the help of some concerned co-workers, I hired a rather attractive young man with a name that sounds like Fabio. The first night he came to the house to work he was too shy (…wait, shyness is not a quality I want in a guard…) to interrupt me in the house, so he sat outside, next to the patio nest, next to the passed out old guard, for 20 minutes until I realized he was there. As we chatted about the set up, how the guards for all the houses work together, how they have a call system to check in on each other during those crucial 2AM-4AM hours, etc. the old guard woke up, stretched, stood up, slipped his pants over his underwear and lit a cigarette…. Yep Fabio was waiting for 20 minutes next to a dude passed out in his underwear…. In my frontyard…. We both tried to play it off like it was normal…. see this is a “clothing optional” work environment, heck let’s just start a nudist camp (though, speaking of which I did walk in on old guard taking a full-on bucket bath in the yard, I should have known since the other guards started giggling as I pulled back the gate… bucket bath is an at-home activity not an at-work activity…so guess there has been some nudity, but also guess that everyone needs to keep good hygiene somehow…anyways…)…..Fabio, old guard with no pants, and me: felt like a first date gone bad, really bad.

After a few conflict resolution sessions between the two guards (“So what I am hearing is that he feels frustrated when you get drunk and argue with the other guards”) and the return of the primary tenant of the house, we have finally figured out a system that works. Old guard now is day guard (apparently one of the actively functional moz laws is some labor law that prevents him from actually getting fired…. couldn't really explain it to ya), he tends his lush garden patch (in our courtyard), he has stopped drinking (here), shows up to work, and gets bubbly-excited about how big the couve is growing... it's quite endearing actually. The nest has been downsized and the dirt is swept. Young guard is night guard. All is well.

***

“It’s broken,” pointing down at the slingshot.

This would be Fabio, week three on the job.

And That would be the ….. same janky slingshot! Didn’t I already get that fixed?!

“The other guards make fun of how weak my slingshot is, they say it couldn’t even take down a little bird.”

Hm, guess that money went to some Tentação. Oh, well. And here, Fabio, take the machete. I think you can handle it.