Monday 1 June 2009

 

Mothers & Daughters. Ice Cream & Ice Pops.

A group of women from the local community come into the gardens. With their brightly coloured saris, pushing prams, daughters in more subdued clothes trotting behind. There is a large Muslim community locally, this was the venue for the annual Sufi festival just a few years ago. They do a circuit of the gardens, coming back round the woody path to the lawn. They spread out a blanket. The mothers sit in a huddle - bright clothes, dark hair in pony tails, and dark skin. Daughters pottering around them.

Three boys play football on the grass. Kicking the ball back and forth. Goals made from discarded toys. At a couple of points the ball clatters into the tables. Knocking chairs flying. I am so sorry, the boy who comes for the ball shouts, in a voice that says he is being a smart arse, loud and sarcastic, but no one can say he didn’t make the gesture. At one of the tables his mother sits with the younger kids, he shouts at her - can I have an ice cream? Don’t be stupid, she shouts back, why would you want an ice cream? Ice cream is the most inconvenient food, she explains, who ever thought it would be a good idea for this kind of weather was daft! But I want one, he informs her. You’ll just make a mess, besides, we’ve got ice cream at home, you can wait, she concludes changing tactics.

In mean time, the little girl has trotted off to where the group of women in saris are sitting. At this point they are distributing ice pops to the girls. They obviously have enough to share, as the little girl shortly comes trotting back sucking on a bright yellow shaft of flavoured ice. Where did you get that? The mother asks. The girl points back at the group. Did you say thank you? The mother asks. The girl says no. You go back there right now and say thank you! The mother snaps. The girl backs away, sucking at the ice, but not going back. If you don’t go back and say thank you, I’ll take it off you! Two of the daughters trot up, and a conversation breaks out, the two girls looking at the mother and wondering what all the fuss is about, they gave the girl an ice pop. Big deal.

Eventually the little girl finishes the ice pop. Bins the polythene wrapper. Then trots back and announces - I think I’ll go get another. The mother snaps again, don’t you dare, that would be so rude! The other girls pass again, she doesn’t have her shoes, one of them observes curiously. Yeah, I don’t know where she has lost them, the mother says. One of the group of mothers comes by, the mother leans over, are they your daughters? The woman says they are, lovely girls, she observes, lovely girls. Which probably translates as - well behaved and do as they are told, unlike my kids.

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