The "Chair"

The people in my village have this wonderful but also vexing habit of trying to sell things to me. It's wonderful because, hey, 90% of the time I really want the goods and it couldn't be more convenient than getting instant delivery. But it can be a bit vexing too. This happens when one just assumes that I'll buy anything...

Gordon, this one nice guy I see around a lot who has had the unfortunate afflication of losing his voice for the last two months, was 'talking' to me one day and said, "I want to stop by your house sometime soon to discuss a personal matter." Now I've learned 'personal matters' can mean any of a dozen things from real private issues to work related issues, to nothing at all. So when Gordon arrived one Friday morning with his friend Lawrence, who was carrying a wooden stool above his head, I knew they were betting on a sale. After the regular social niceties they got down to business, "Lawrence wants to sell you this chair," Gordon said.

I took a good look at the thing and quickly realized it was the ugliest craft I'd ever seen. Usually I completely fall for African art; I mean, the crafts here are beautiful and you hardly have to convince me to fill my hut with them, but this specimen offered a stark and rare exception.

The 'Chair' was stool height, only a foot off the ground, and was adorned with all levels of woodburning ornamentation. There were only three legs in an odd formation--two in front, one in back--positioned in such a way that tipping over would be virtually assured. The backrest (perhaps the only characteristic qualifying it as a 'chair') read "UkwiLMbwino" which was supposed to read "ukwikala bwino" [ie. sit well] but Lawrence didn't make room for that, so he vanely inscribed his initials in the center instead. Just what I was looking for...

But by far the most unattractive aspect was also the most noticeable--the two front legs and the sides of the seat were formed in such a way that they appeared like those of a woman in a sitting position, clad in fishnet stockings and black pumps. The legs were so remarkably obvious that to use the 'chair' for its proper function would mean appearing to have crushed a small woman who, more oddly, was 'seated' on nothing but a single, arrect wooden stake. Sit well indeed.

"I'm sorry, Gordon," I started slowly, unable to take my eyes off the monstrosity, "I don't need any more chairs. But it looks...nice. I can see Lawrence spent a lot of time on it." Gordon continued to press unsuccessfully for the purchase--he was no doubt counting on his share of the sale--but finally gave up and bid me good day. As Gordon and Lawrence marched away, chair held aloft with the third leg protruding awkwardly, I couldn't help but think: I'm sure there isn't a word for "tacky" in Bemba, but there really needs to be.