Ma bonniche

I’m sad today. I’d just put done the phone with mom. I couldn’t help it I burst in tears. Mona is gone. She asked permission last week to go see her sick sister in Al Ain, yesterday she called saying that she needs to go back to Ethiopia with her sick sister.

I’m sad, very sad that she left, I got used to her. She’s only been here for six weeks but I’m hurt. I have been asking my friend Jiji for a “bonniche” for sometime and when she came last month, although my family was here and it was difficult to fit her in my one bedroom, I couldn’t afford to let her go. She was a good catch, neat, clever and a good cook. My mom trained her for a week before she went back to Beirut.

When I first saw Mona I was surprised, she’s very small in size, how could she be as good as jiji described? She called her a Fernayneh saying that she was handling a 5 bedroom villa on her own… Mona was a clever girl indeed, she immediately took responsibility for everything at home. In addition to the cleaning that she does without any guidance, she also washes and irons all my clothes, I don’t need to send anything to laundry, and the clothes smell much better and feel way more soft than when they come from the laundry. The best thing was her cooking capacities. She was not a cook, I mean when she tried to cook some chicken on her own it was not really spectacular. But no matter how complicated is the dish I’m preparing, she can do it with the slightest guidance. The other day I just explained how to do the moujaddarah and when I came home it was ready!

I firstly had difficulties having a stranger with me. I couldn’t look at her straight in the eyes, I was a bit shy. I haven’t had a bonniche before. It’s difficult to live with a strange person. At the beginning, Mona was very attentive. Obviously that’s how she gets to know me better in order to give me a better service. Well, she did a great job. I knew that, but still I was a bit at unease when she comes and takes my dish. I felt a bit uncomfortable when she brought my quilt. I’m not used to be served by anyone but my mom, or at least someone that I love if you know what I mean. Slowly after my mom went back to Beirut I started getting attached to her. Sometimes I called her Habibti. Some other times I asked her to be the judge in my fight with Walid, my younger brother. She was sweet.

When I spoke with her this evening she was almost crying. I know that it sounds silly to confess that I’m devastated and crying. But I am. I always play very carefully when I let in anybody into my life, a friend or a lover, but with Mona I was not prepared. I completely forgot how I easily grow dependant on people and how it hurts to loose those ones….