Designer tee shirts

I came to the unhappy conclusion that occasionally, Mauritanian children are merely uncouth little versions of their parents. Uninhibited by social boundaries, RIM kids launch easily into inquiries that would otherwise be reserved for more intimate relations than passing strangers: are you married? Do you have kids? Are you a virgin? All within the two-minute commute to class, screamed from a tire swing by voices unfamiliar and seemingly uncaring. Fare from a greeting laced with curiosity or even a hello peppered with unintentionally insulting questions, my Sabuallan sabeyiin (children) go for the jugular. They barely await a response, since the goal is in the asking, not answering.

I am learning both resilience and diversion tactics, the best of which is to fire back the same questions. Asking a seven year old “candak mint?” (do you have a daughter?) is sufficiently baffling that I’m halfway to class by the time my would-be interviewers recover their wits. If my strange response doesn’t catch them off guard, it at least tickles their funny bone, and I’d always prefere a chuckle to confusion.

As to other solutions, undoubtedly necessary in Atar, a city whose source of children is inexhaustible, I am thinking of a secondary project of silk screening tee shirts. My first batch would read:

“Wallahi, ele maa candi rajil, laa ishshashra, laa cadeau. We nte?”
(Nope, don’t have a man, or kids, or a present. Do you?)