A bandit is caught

Written Tuesday, 8 July 2008

 

 

Recently a bandit who had stolen ten of my host family's cows over the last six months was caught.  My host brother was able to follow a stolen cow's tracks to the butcher in another village.  He called the gendarmes, who demanded that the butcher produce the head, feet, and skin of the cow whose meat he was currently selling (by which the cow could be identified).

 

The butcher, trying to be crafty, instead produced the hide of a cow that had been butchered some time ago and tried to pass it off as the cow killed that day.  Unfortunately for the butcher, though, that cow had also been stolen from my family and their brand was on its hide.  So the butcher was caught as a receiver of stolen goods.

 

Apparently without too much pressure he gave up the name of the actual cattle rustler: a man from another village who has been living in a neighbor's compound in my village and working as a farm hand.

 

My favorite part of the story is this: the gendarmes were clever and waited to come apprehend him until the hour when he was likely to be bathing, so that he would not be wearing his gris-gris (amulets) that would have protected him and allowed him to escape.  They came to his door and knocked as if they were just regular visitors, and when he came to the door gris-gris-less, they grabbed him!  He asked to be allowed to go back into his room to get dressed, but they knew that then he would put on his gris-gris and become invisible or turn into a bug or something, so they refused and took him straight off to jail, where he remains (gris-gris-less).

Written Tuesday, 8 July 2008

A bandit is caught

 

Recently a bandit who had stolen ten of my host family's cows over the last six months was caught.  My host brother was able to follow a stolen cow's tracks to the butcher in another village.  He called the gendarmes, who demanded that the butcher produce the head, feet, and skin of the cow whose meat he was currently selling (by which the cow could be identified).

 

The butcher, trying to be crafty, instead produced the hide of a cow that had been butchered some time ago and tried to pass it off as the cow killed that day.  Unfortunately for the butcher, though, that cow had also been stolen from my family and their brand was on its hide.  So the butcher was caught as a receiver of stolen goods.

 

Apparently without too much pressure he gave up the name of the actual cattle rustler: a man from another village who has been living in a neighbor's compound in my village and working as a farm hand.

 

My favorite part of the story is this: the gendarmes were clever and waited to come apprehend him until the hour when he was likely to be bathing, so that he would not be wearing his gris-gris (amulets) that would have protected him and allowed him to escape.  They came to his door and knocked as if they were just regular visitors, and when he came to the door gris-gris-less, they grabbed him!  He asked to be allowed to go back into his room to get dressed, but they knew that then he would put on his gris-gris and become invisible or turn into a bug or something, so they refused and took him straight off to jail, where he remains (gris-gris-less).