La Petite Shelby

Recently I received a message from the plumber who fixed our kitchen sink a few weeks ago. He wrote, "Bonjour, I would like to inform you that I gave your prenom, Shelby, to my daughter, born 21/01/10. I hope you will come to meet her." Although I had to read it a few times to make sure I understood, I immediately thought it was quite endearing.

My housemate, upon hearing this, exclaimed, “La petite Shelby!” She read the message and suggested that they may be looking for a "godmother" from the U.S. Unsure of how to proceed, I asked one of my Burkinabe collaborators for advice. He’s a father of teenage kids and a huge smile spread across his face when I read the text message. He confirmed that they wanted me to be the godmother; which meant that when I visit, I should bring a gift. He elaborated, “They like the name, and you must have left a nice impression. It’s very nice! OK, since it’s a girl, bring four pieces of soap as cadeau.”

I asked, “Why four?”

“Because girls get four, and boys get five. They’re supposed to get three, according to tradition, but three is too few and it must be different than what girls receive, so boys get five,” he explained. “Anyways, give soap and maybe a piece of clothing or something for the baby.”

I thanked him for his advice and checked with a female collaborator regarding exactly which type of soap one buys. She advised well because after I went to visit last week, the family sent a message saying, “A thousand thanks for coming to visit and for bringing us a gift. Infinite thanks. Stay in contact and have a good evening.”

I took a taxi to a landmark in Bobo (the “sweeping lady” statue – a bronze of a woman with a broom in her hand) and Petite Shelby’s dad picked me up on his moto. We drove down the main paved road, then turned off on an unpaved road and drove to the house through a busy neighborhood with lots of kids playing in the courtyards.

When we arrived, I was offered a chair and introduced to Petite Shelby’s grandmother, mother, two aunts, and a neighbor. All the women, except one aunt, spoke only Dioula, so it was the usual mix of French and charades and a few key greetings in Dioula. It was very sweet, mom nursed the baby then wrapped her in a cloth over her outfit and handed her to me. She’s a beautiful little baby and looks healthy. Her ears were pierced already and a few pieces of string through them, signifying that she’s a girl. She was nearly asleep by the time I gave her back to mom!

I presented the gift to Petite Shelby’s grandmother (as her dad said is protocol) and she thanked me but did not open it. I was hoping to watch them open it, not only because half the fun of giving gifts at home is watching the reactions of the recipients, but because I had tucked into the bag a small box with a silver keychain-become-pendant with “Shelby” engraved on it. My parents sent it from Seattle for me because my mom is seeing magnets and the like with my name written on it (a rare find when I was a child), but said that it would be a nice gift for Petite Shelby.

I stayed for about an hour, then as it turned dark, “asked for the road” (as is protocol here). As I left the house, I had a brief lesson in Dioula farewells and exchanged lots of laughs with all the women before Petite Shelby’s dad took me home on his moto. I hope to see them all again before long.