Pointe Noire,
Congo
Friday, December 26, 2008
We recently had an interesting experience buying a piece of wicker furniture, a chaise lounge for the sweet bare terrace that wraps around our apartment. Our friends had had two made for them buy local craftsmen, so a few weeks ago Ann-Mary and Angela went off with Angela's drawings to find a good deal from one of the many side-of-the-road vendors of wicker wares. The stop by the corrupt cop notwithstanding, they returned feeling successful. Two large pieces were ordered for the equivalent of 100 bucks apiece, and they would be ready in two weeks. Later that week, however, a phone call came through from someone babbling in agitated French. Ann-Mary passed the phone off to me, and the best I could do (with her help) was to recognize that it was our furniture maker and that there was a problem. Off we went to talk in person, and it turned out that the deal was made with Ann-Mary not by the furniture maker himself, and he was not happy with the price negotiated. I told him that there was no problem - he could return the money and we would find someone else to make us the loungers. Angela had paid a little less for hers, so I knew that price was not out of line with the going rate. I told him that if he was not happy with the deal, he would not make us a good piece. He decided to make us just one chaise at the price negotiated, instead of two, and we agreed. It took a little longer than two weeks, of course, and when we finally got back to him we had to ferry two workers around the block to the warehouse. Unfortunately, they couldn't fit it in the car, so we tried to think of who we knew with a pickup truck when they pointed to one of the ubiquitous guys pushing a cart along the street. So for an extra 5,000 CFA (about ten bucks), we left the job in their hands to contract with a carter to bring it to our house. We drew maps in the dirt to show them where we lived, and called our nanny to let her know it was coming. When we got back, it was on the downstairs terrace, being too big to fit up the stairs. Later last week, when we finally had gotten some guys over here to help us hang some art on the walls and put up a shower curtain rod, I asked them if they could come back the next day with rope to help us get the chaise upstairs (one of the guards' ideas). Instead, they sprang into action with the long coil of electrical cord they'd brought with them, and when I got back from my errand the lounger was up on the terrace. Now we just need to find a foam cushion for it.
