you. We are a different kind. We are not dignitaries. The Peace Corps does not give us much money and we cannot afford expensive servants."
"Miss Susan, everyone must have a cook. You cannot do all the work by yourself, and, besides, I know how to save you money in the kitchen. I know very many ways to cook goat and fish."
"But Ali, how much did Mr. Bradley pay you?" I asked out of curiosity.
"Mr. Bradley gave me twelve pounds, five shillings---but that was Blantyre and it is too expensive here just now."
"Ali, that is one quarter of my salary.”
"Madam, you must understand. I am old now. My family is at Forti. I would be very happy to be near my village. I would work for you for less."
"Papani, Ali. I just can't do it."
"Madam, I will work for ten pounds," he retorted.
I knew Ali was right. Servants were not an optional extra, but a requirement. In addition, in a strange turn of logic, the Peace Corps Director had just informed us that we would be expected to have cooks, not only as a means of employing a local, but also as a matter of prestige. "No one," he explained, "will feel you have anything to offer if you can not afford a servant." The expected salary, however, was closer to five pounds than ten. I doubted that Ali would be willing to work for less than he had proposed.
Ali, I simply cannot afford to pay you ten pounds. I am sorry."
"I will work for eight pounds a month," he said, with little hesitation.
"Ali, my friend, there is no need to continue. I will find someone in Fort Johnston."
"Madam, at Forti you will not find cooks who are honest. And a cook at Forti will be too proud to do housework too."
"I'm sorry, Ali, but five pounds is all I can pay."
"For that you will get a child or a thief, not someone like me," he said. "I am sorry. I wish I had more money to offer. I do not want to insult you, but that is all I can afford," I said.
"Madam, you know that five pounds is too little for a man with a family. I can work for seven pounds, ten shillings...but that is finish."
Robinson brought a fresh pot of tea. "Madam, I know Ali for very long time. He is very good and very safe. I know many people he has worked for. He has an excellent chit book.”
Safe? What did he mean? Certainly it would be safe to have a cook. No one at the meeting today said anything about safety. But, what would it be like for a 20-year-old girl to hire a cook her same age? My mind suddenly filled with terrors far worse than slithering snakes.
Ali did appear safe—and wise and friendly too. And, maybe he could save me money by shopping carefully. "Ali, I can give you six pounds a month but that is all," I said with finality.
"I am sorry, that is not sufficient, Madam. I have already come down from twelve pounds five to seven pounds ten. I cannot do any more. And for that I will even do laundry," he added disdainfully.
"Thank you Ali, but I cannot do any better," I said handing him back his chit book.
"I am too sad, Madam. I am sorry for spoiling your pleasure. Zikomo kwambili, Memsab. He bowed.
"Zikomo, Ali," I said, filled with doubts, ambivalence and second thoughts. We watched him walk away shaking his head slowly. He palavered with Robinson for several minutes.
The intermediary returned. "Ali is too sad that he cannot work for you. He says he would be happy to be near his home again."
I felt that I had made a big mistake. Jan confirmed it. "I sure hope I can find someone as good as him in Karonga," she said.
Robinson poured us some more tea, "Madam, he likes you too much and knows you do not have the money like the Bwanas from U.K. But, he has to live, as well. Maize is not cheap and meat is very dear now...and he has two wives to feed. He says he will work for you for seven pounds only."
I knew that I could not say no, but I reasoned softness could be taken for weakness—an inadvisable way to start an employer-employee relationship. "Tell him I can give him six pounds and five shillings, but that would have to be my absolute last offer. No more!"
He walked back to where Ali was waiting. They chatted, argued and gesticulated, while Jan and I feigned nonchalance, a technique I'd seen Daddy use on car salesmen.
Ali returned, "Madam, I could do this for no one else, but I like you and I want to be near my village. I will work for six pounds and ten shillings, but, I must ask of you two things. First, I must have Fridays off to go to mosque and, if you like my cooking and I show you how I can save you money, you will please give me seven pounds after six months."
By now Jan was caught up in the negotiations. "Don't be crazy, Susan. Don't let him get away for a few shillings a week," she whispered in my ear.
"But what if?”
"What if what? You want to hold out for one with power steering and over-drive at the same price?" Jan had become impatient with me.
I laughed, "Ali we have a deal."
Ali bowed, respectfully, without hint of subservience.
"Miss Susan, you will be happy, wait and see."
As an afterthought, I challenged, "Ali, do you know how to make beef Stroganoff?"
"Oh, yes Madam. Very good. One of my best. It was Mr. Langley's favorite for dinner parties. He was here after the Great War and gave very big parties, indeed. I can make it with goat, just as good as cow and saves money. Just wait and see."
Karonga-bound Jan asked, "Do you know how to make apple pie?"
"Oh, yes Madam. I worked for Irish lady one time, Mrs. Cunningham. She taught me how to make it with some lemon and cinnamon. Makes it very tasty, indeed."
"Golly, Jan, I'll have to invite you down for lunch one day."
Jan scowled, "Yea, we can have fish...they say the fish at Forti is too good."
Chapter 3. First Encounters
The dust-laden net was suffocating, but the constant buzz of mosquito made my protective confinement a rewarding trade-off. My denial could no longer be denied. I tossed and turned, anticipating the pain of separation. Our training had made us one and, in fact, had molded us into a "Corps.” Now, our oneness would be shattered. The platoon, having landed, would be dispersed the length and breath of the country.
I sensed I might never see Jan again. Karonga was so remote we'd be lucky to see each other once a year. I had relied on her to get me through the tough times in training and the first few days in Africa. I hadn't even been able to make the decision to hire Ali without her prodding. I thought of her silly giggle and her quickness in reading my moods. I was going to be alone for the first time in my life.
I was going to a town even the Peace Corps Director had not seen. All he knew was that it was hot and it had fish. How would I deal with the isolation, the solitude,
