Sunday, February 18, 2007

Itto

Have I told you about Itto yet? The old Berber woman who sits in front of my house all day? Itto yells out her own name every time she sees me (I think, at one time, she worried that I might forget, even though unlike Ait Hamza, I’ve only encountered two women named Itto in Assoul so far). In a world without telephones, most every visit to my house tends to be a drop-in, so Itto (along with my neighbor Aicha), also serves as my old-fashioned answering machine, telling would-be visitors whether they even need to bother knocking on my door. (My sitemate has one of these too, but his old lady is legitimately crazy, and not always particularly helpful or accurate in her efforts: “Oh, he went out, but maybe you should knock anyway… Knock harder, sometimes he plays loud music… See, I told you, he’s not there. Can I have your shoes?”). In the summer, with my windows open, I can even listen to Itto’s updates to other women as to what the tarumit (foreign girl) might be up to in there. When I go out for my morning walk or run, she always laughs and says she would join me, but her knees hurt.

The funny thing is, in spite of my periodic aggravation at my lack of privacy in Assoul, I have never viewed Itto as an intrusion – only a delight. When she smiles and yells her name at me, I simply smile and yell it back. Too bad the only photo I have of her is the only time I’ve ever seen her without a smile.


Please keep reading. I posted two at once today...

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