Sahara

by Oscar Luis Rigiroli

  Up the time limit set by him Zoubaida, Souady and Charfadine attended the pompous Monsieur Yannick Office to check if he had obtained news of relatives and friends, through his informal channels of Chadian exiles. They left the small Hubert at the care of the father who took him to a short walk in the vicinity of the hotel. When he returned the women had not returned yet.

  At the end of one and half hours Cristian heard noises in the hall and soon distinguished the voice of her mother-in-law. He ran forward to open the door, and their faces prepared him for what was to come.

  “Ousmar...?” He managed to ask.

  “My husband is alive.” Souady replied immediately “But has lost a hand in combat, by the explosion of a grenade. Apparently he also has scars all over his body.”

  “Haroun?”

  Zoubaida hugged him strongly while she whispered.

  “Your friend has died, mon cher.” The woman felt the sharp contraction in all the muscles of Cristian. Charfadine also took him by the hand. A few whimpers emerged from the man throat. Who had been his companion, guide and confident in his random pass through territory African had died.

  “How was it...?”

  “As a hero.” Replied Zoubaida “He stayed with a contingent of his men in the village to allow villagers to evacuate it, gaining precious time which allowed the majority to be safe. All of them fell.”

  Charfadine still was holding his hand. For the first time she spoke.

  “If you had been there you would have fallen with them, and you would not have been able to put us safe.” Looking him in the eyes she added “Don’t you blame yourself? You couldn´t have saved them.”

  “Africa is a very cruel continent with its children.” Said somberly Souady.

  As he saw his parents grieving gesture Hubert broke into tears, so Zoubaida set to calm him down.

  “I never want to go back to my country.” Whispered Charfadine so that only Cristian could hear her. “I can't stand the things happening there.”

  It was once again Zoubaida who attended to comfort his sister. Souady, who knew that in reality it was her function to contain her young smiled and with a firm voice said to her eldest daughter.

  “Thanks to the gods that we have you at this terrible time. You're our rock and our oasis, our light in the wilderness.”

  “Night is never darker than before dawn.” Replied Zoubaida “We will leave these trials strengthened.”

  “And how are things now?” Asked Cristian.

  “It seems that the clan Mbaye stood up to circumstances. They sent their men to contain the aggressors and received our people and many more on their lands, which are now overpopulated.” Replied Souady. “No doubt that my husband was right in not alienating their boss on the issue of Charfadine´s marriage. The ruse worked.”

  “My marriage a ruse?” Said Charfadine in a sad air of protest.

  “The circumstances surrounding your marriage were actually a ruse to let you marry the man you love.” Was her mother´s convincing response.

  “And what else do you know?” Insisted Cristian.

  “The French have put pressure on the Chadian Government to attack the aggressors in their rear, and it is said that planes have bombed them furtively, so the invasion is losing momentum and they hope to dislodge them from the sites they have occupied.”

  “I trust that in the coming days we can re-establish contact with my father.” Expressed Zoubaida, hope that paradoxically tore off tears of her mother.

  Souady brought together her daughters and her son-in-law and all merged into a hug, whose meaning escaped their understanding probably because it was actually addressed to their souls.

  Indeed, the following week the go all went to M. Yannick´s office to talk by radio with Ousmar. The old warrior´s broken voice spoke clear enough of the emotion he was under. Souady spoke first.

  “Ousmar Djalali.” Said the matron once that both could overcome the invasion of feelings. “My place is with you, and I want to go back. No matter what dangers the future will bring we´ll face them together.”

  “I understand and I feel the same, but it is not yet the time. We are installed in very precariously in Mbaye territory. I believe that soon we will return to our lands, although perhaps not yet to our village. When this happens, I will call you by my side.”

  Zoubaida spoke in second place. Her father was very interested in the health and growth of his grandchild so she gave all kinds of details in this regard. He finally told her.

  “Zoubaida. There is nothing that I want more than to see my daughters and my grandson. But this country will be dangerous for a long time and I do not expose our future. Follow your husband on the way he chooses and also you'll get back when the situation is mature.”

  The next round was Charfadine´s, who was constantly interrupted by tears. Ousmar did not know it, but it was the girl´s farewell to her past in Africa. In fact, the only one who could reveal the meaning of that conversation was Cristian.

  Finally, the old Chief asked to speak to his son-in-law, who was also visibly affected by emotion.

  “Cristian.” He told “All that I care in the world is in your hands now, and I trust them.” He made a halt to recompose the breath. “Tell me; are you free to return to your country?”

  “Of course, I don't have pending accounts anywhere.”

  “Then take my daughters and grandson with you. They deserve a life of tranquility. Educate well your son, who someday will have high responsibilities. Providing time I will call Zoubaida and Hubert with me. Charfadine and you will be free to choose your destiny. You will be welcome in our land any time.”

  “I won´t let you down Chief Djalali. If I may I'm going to make a request.”

  “Tell me.”

  “Take care of Haroun´s wives and children.”

  “No doubt I will. He is the hero of our people.”

  Souady said goodbye once more and then the communication ended after three months of uncertainty and despair.

  CHAPTER 15

  The Charles De Gaulle airport was extremely busy at that time in the morning. People of all ethnic origins, nationalities and outfits filled lobbies paying attention to the screens which reported departures and arrivals. Sitting near a gate where the Air France flight to Buenos Aires had already been announced and which would depart in an hour, Souady, her two daughters, her son-in-law and grandson passed their last moments together until an uncertain fate brought them together again, none of them knew when or where. Souady held Hubert on her lap, asleep despite the uproar around them. Zoubaida and Charfadine surrounded her with her arms, while Cristian walked up and down anxious as before every trip by plane. The matron was inexplicably happy. The latest news from her husband in Chad predicted a return to the village sooner than anticipated, and the family around her filled her desires. The expectation of staying alone in Paris for a time did not worry her at all since she would always be and contact with M. Yannick and their peers. She knew that Zoubaida and her grandson would return to the village when the guarantees were given, but deep at her heart Souady wondered if she would see Charfadine again, her favorite daughter, and her little girl. She shook her head to chase away gloomy thoughts, and said to herself: you can always go to visit her to Buenos Aires or wherever she is. The Djalali family was not poor and could afford her journey.

  Taking charge of her mother´s situation Zoubaida approached her and said.

  “Let me know as soon we can go, even to visit you. And if your return to Chad is delayed we will have prepared a place for you wherever we are.

  “What are the plans as you arrive?” Souady asked addressing Cristian.

  “My brother and my brother-in-law will come and get us to the Ezeiza airport in Buenos Aires. We will travel directly on the same day to my hometown, Venado Tuerto, in the Province of Santa Fe. There we are staying at my parent’s house, which is very broad, especially now that their four children have married and live on their own. With time I plan to find a ho
use and a job in Buenos Aires, which is a very large international city.”

  At that moment the speakers gave boarding instructions and passengers began form a row to get into the plane. Charfadine, who had remained silent tightly, hugged her mother with tears in her eyes.

  “Do not be afraid, ma petite fille, your mother will seek you and will find you wherever you are.

  The aerial view of the city of Buenos Aires hit Zoubaida that had in mind a certain image of a Latin American city and met with a vast and modern metropolis of rational design. Charfadine watched the country that received her with great anxiety but in silence. Cristian was trying to describe them what was to be seen from the air but could barely beat a lump in the throat by returning to his homeland.

  Gonzalo, the elder brother turned out to be a young sympathetic and expansive man, with air of family with Cristian, but dark hair and eyes. He was dressed in jeans, a sport jacket and slippers. Eduardo, Cristian´s brother-in-law was a bit older and kept to himself. Cristian warmly greeted their relatives, whom he had not seen in the past four years. Both men had traveled from Venado Tuerto with two trucks of double cab and cargo box, stained externally with mud, clear sign of agricultural use to which they were applied. The interiors of the cabins were however ample and clean. Cristian, Zoubaida and Hubert traveled with Gonzalo, while Charfadine went with Eduardo.

  The first contact with his brother-in-law was extremely pleasant to Zoubaida, despite the language limitations. Gonzalo could barely speak English and a bit of French so Cristian translated the rest. Hubert looked out of the window absorbing the landscape in silence.

  When they left the city and began to pass through suburban areas, the woman was impacted this time by the dimensions of the so-called Greater Buenos Aires, including some slums also of large dimensions. Later cityscape gave way to the rural, with large areas devoted to agricultural work. Cristian could not feel a certain pride to show his country to his family.

  Charfadine looked at the agrarian scene with singular pleasure. Although she had also lived in France she only knew the capital city and parts of the countryside, very different from the extent that now opened before her eyes. Eduardo, who did not speak another language than the Castilian, overcoming his natural timidity indicated her certain sites and gave their names, which she couldn’t remember but appreciated the gesture of hospitality of the man. As the van devoured miles it was growing inside her an overwhelming conviction that this was the place where she wanted to live. Charfadine, a sensitive spirit, had barely overcome all the sufferings and the physical and emotional instability of the last months and wanted desperately to turn page and find her place in the world. The Argentine prairie- as had done earlier with many newcomers - showed her its smiling face.

  Arriving at Venado Tuerto the trucks did not enter the city but took a dirt road that forked from the route and drove a couple of miles along it.

  “ It´s not only dust, but what we call an "enhanced" road.” Told Cristian to Zoubaida.

  “And what is the difference?

  “That is passable with a moderate rainfall, and depending on who drives, even with a torrential rain.”

  Torrential rains in the countryside were outside the universe of experiences of Zoubaida, however the periods spent in the United States and France.

  At last they came to a large chalet-style house located beside the road, access to which was through a casuarinas grove that whistled at a gentle breeze blowing across them. The whole wide field, whose boundaries were lost on both sides was surrounded by a fence, and the entrance was through a tranquera, simple gate that was opened simply by removing a simple lock and whose only purpose was impeding the passage of animals.

  Luis Colombo and his wife Graciela were already at the door of the chalet, expectant to receive their son after his prolonged absence, and to meet their new relatives. Graciela ran to embrace Cristian with her face ravaged by tears, and it took a couple of minutes until he could articulate a word. Luis waited for his wife to give rein to their emotions and then shook to Cristian strongly.

  “You're welcome, son.” Simple said in a broken voice.

  “Let me introduce my wife Zoubaida.” Said the newly arrived when he was able to recompose. “And this is Hubert, the grandson that you still never met.”

  Zoubaida was expectant of any hint of backlash by his in-laws faced with a color daughter-in-law, but found only smiles, and was surprised to receive a kiss of the woman kiss and a hug from the burly farmer, whom one minute before she did not know.

  At the time arrived Eduardo´s pick-up of and descended Charfadine who was wearing her blue robe on the travel clothes, and covered her hair with a kerchief of the same color. The visual impact of the exotic beauty was deep, and left her in-laws out of breath. Gonzalo, who had already had the same reaction at the airport broke his palms exclaiming festive.

  “Well, let´s see if someone helps me to get the baggage from the box of the truck. I wonder what they have brought from Africa that weighs so much!”

  The Colombo had prepared for his son and his family a small house that was within the premises of the farm, and that was vacant since the children had become independent. As Cristian had announced his return from Paris more than one month in advance they had been able to refurbish it, and they had already moved the belongings that the young man had left when he traveled abroad. A small living room, it was a house of three bedrooms “one for each child” a wide kitchen and two bathrooms. The building dated back to about fifty years before but it was solid and in good condition.

  “Almost custom made for us.” Reflected Zoubaida.

  “Choose a room for each one of you.” Said Cristian. “I will leave my stuff in the smallest, that was precisely the one I had when I was a child.”

  That night they dined at the home the food that Graciela had prepared for them. They were exhausted by the long journey and the child was very excited.

  “Tomorrow I have prepared a dinner in your honor at the big house, so you will know the rest of the family, at least those who live in Venado Tuerto.” Told Graciela to Charfadine in her imperfect high school English.

  The girl despite her somewhat insecure nature noticed that her mother-in-law was very pleased with her though she had not done much to deserve it so far. She was intrigued for the fact that those farmers welcomed a son who had been absent for his own will and who was returning in a situation of bigamy, married to two women of different race and different culture. Of her education in a religious school in France she recalled the parable of the prodigal son, which in this case had spread to his entire family. She drew the conclusion that her new family had a tradition of hospitality similar to that in force in sub-Saharan Africa rather than that of their European ancestors that Charfadine knew very well.

  Charfadine stretched on the bed without undressing with the only purpose to enjoy her new situation, free of uncertainties and fears. Then, under a rediscovered sense of well-being after a long period of stress she fell asleep.

  On the following night all family members attended at the meeting, including Eduardo and his wife Monica with her three children and Gonzalo and his partner Sofia, with two sons, as well as several aunts and cousins. The Colombo had arranged the 'big house' for the event and they were wearing their Sunday clothes. The large table in the dining room was crowded of dishes and drinks, served on table cloths that were only occasionally used. The dishware was surviving pieces corresponding to several different sets.

  The last to arrive were Zoubaida, Charfadine, Cristian and the small Hubert in his father's arms. Zoubaida was dressed in magnificent African attire, consisting of a dress from head to toe in apple green silk fabric, leaving only her face exposed. On top of it a wide bright red cape, lined with a green cloth a bit darker than the clothing she wore and a multi-colored kerchief covering her chest.

  Charfadine wore also typically African clothing that mixed blue and violet colors. Both women provided a note of color and luster to a m
eeting where predominated the cold tones. Some local ladies were somewhat surprised at first, but the festive tone carried away all negative feelings.

  Cristian raised his son in the air and said in a loud voice.

  “Let me introduce the youngest of the Colombo. Next month he will be one year old.

  He then went on to greet relatives who he had not yet seen, and he was greeted warmly and congratulated by his family. Rodrigo, one of the sons of Eduardo, two years old, touched his new cousin on the cheek surprised by its dark color, and immediately began to laugh as he hugged the small head. Hubert, infected of the mood, also began to laugh while he shook his little hands.

  Zoubaida was aware of the aesthetic impact that she had produced, and moved with her usual fluency in social environments. She was soon surrounded by relatives who were trying to make themselves understood in English learned at school, or in French learned at home.

  Graciela approached Charfadine and introduced her to each concurrent. The young woman with her calm attitude communicated with simplicity and sympathy with the new members of her extended family, while perceived the reactions of admiration and envy produced by her graceful movements. She had become aware that somehow her mother-in-law had decided to put her under her protection, which was understandably reassuring in this strange rural environment.

  Zoubaida returned to her new home extremely pleased. She had confirmed that her natural charm and distinction had the same effect in this far South American atmosphere in some ways so strange, that in New York, Paris or her native village. She had undoubtedly been in the spotlight of Cristian´s family that she accurately imagined representative of the rural middle class in the country. His son had been accepted as one Colombo, although she had plans for him. The skin color did not seem to be a negative factor, at least in their case.

  Also Charfadine tried to evaluate her sensations and perceptions as she returned to her room. She knew that her sister had dazzled everybody by her exotic type and her social gifts, but she, Charfadine had no doubt stood out by her beauty; she had indeed felt in its silhouette all male eyes observing her askance.