Color Purple, The - Alice Walker [41]
Almost since the day we arrived I've noticed a change in Corrine. She isn't sick. She works as hard as ever. She is still sweet and good-natured. But sometimes I sense her spirit is being tested and that something inher is not at rest.
That's fine, I said. I'm glad you brought it up.
And don't let the children call you Mama Nettie, she said, even hi play.
This bothered me a little, but I didn't say anything. The children do call me Mama Nettie sometimes because I do a good bit of fussing over them. But I never try to take Corrine's place.
And another thing, she said. I think we ought to try not to borrow each other's clothes.
Well, she never borrowed anything of mine because I don't have much. But I'm all the time borrowing something of hers.
You feeling yourself? I asked her.
She said yes.
I wish you could see my hut, Celie. I loveit. Unlike our school, which is square, and unlike our church, which doesn't have walls? at least during the dry season? my hut is round, walled, with a round roofleaf roof. It is twenty steps across the middle and fits me to a T. Over the mud walls I have hung Olinka platters and mats and pieces of tribal cloth. The Olinka are known for their beautiful cotton fabric which they handweave and dye with berries, clay, indigo and tree bark. Then there is my paraffin camp stove in the center, and my camp bed to one side, covered with mosquito netting so that it almost looks tike the bed of a bride.
Then I have a small writing table where I write to you, a lamp, and a stool. Some wonderful rush mats on the floor. It is all colorful and warm and homey. My only desire for it now is a window!
None of the village huts have windows, and when I spoke of a window to the women they laughed heartily. The rainy season makes the thought of a window ridiculous, apparently .8ut I am determined to have one, even if a flood collects daily on my floor.
I would give anything for a picture of you, Celie. In my trunk I have pictures donated to us by the missionary societies in England and America. Pictures of Christ, the Apostles, Mary, the Crucifixion. Speke, Livingstone, Stanley, Schweitzer. Maybe one day I'll put them up, but once, when I held them up to my fabric and mat covered walls they made me feel very small and unhappy, so I took them down. Even the picture of Christ which generally looks good anywhere looks peculiar here. We of course have all of these pictures hung in the school and many of Christ behind the altar at the church.. That is enough, I think, though Samuel and Corrine have pictures and relics (crosses) in their hut as well.
Your sister,
Nettie
Tashi's mother and father were just here. They are upset because she spends so much time with Olivia. She is changing, becoming quiet and too thoughtful, they say. She is becoming someone else; her face is beginning to show the spirit of one of her aunts who was sold to the trader because she no longer fit into village life. This aunt refused to marry the man chosen for her. Refused to bow to the chief. Did nothing but lay up, crack cola nuts between her teeth and giggle.
They want to know what Olivia and Tashi do in my hut when all the other little girls are busy helping their mothers.
Is Tashi lazy at home? I asked.
The father looked at the mother. She said, No, on the contrary, Tashi works harder than most girls her age. And is quicker to finish her work. But it is only because she wishes to spend her afternoons with Olivia. She learns everything I teach her as if she already knows it, said the mother, but this knowledge does not really enter her soul.
The mother seemed puzzled and afraid.
The father, angry.
I thought: Aha. Tashi knows she is learning a way of life she will never live. But I did not say this.
The world is changing, I said. It is no longer a world just for boys and men.