A Man with Hair

Today, I found out that Hamid, one of the artisan teachers at the woodwork association, committed suicide yesterday. Some of his closest friends also work at this association, and although the news shocked them, their faces showed no emotional distress. We snacked on Dove chocolates (compliments of my mom) and green wheat stalks, while basking in the late afternoon sun and talking about American products like IcyHot.

A friend of another artisan (a potential translator for me) asked if I knew Hamid. I told him a story about a time when a bunch of the artisan guys and I were talking about marriage. Only Hamid and another artisan had thick, dark hair, and they were the only two unmarried men. We joked that marriage caused baldness or gray hair, and we proved the hair/marriage test with all the guys in the artisanat center. It was a fun moment that made me feel a bit closer to the association members, and today we had a second bittersweet laugh over it. Hamid was 36 years old, an age that reminded me of someone else dear to me. His story is neither the first death nor suicide I heard about since moving here to B-town, but unlike the men who knew him better than I did, my eyes were wet.

Regardless, life goes on. With my new translator, I interviewed another artisan. Learned that while the association members all share the same workshop space and collectively teach 20 boys the trade, each of them had his own customers. I was surprised because I thought they operated as one association, not individually with single orders. I asked if this environment created any internal competition, especially since each artisan had a family to support with the income generated from these sales.

Hamid’s best friend jumped into the conversation and said he “haites” the others—joking and charading that he both “hates” and “hits.” The artisans believed there was no competition between them because they are friends first. I got a list of reasons why they’re proud to be part of the association and its benefits. Even at craft fairs, the products with the best quality will sell. WOW-what a concept.

It was getting dark, and Hamid’s bff asked if I wanted to interview him next. He said he needed some time to cope first with his friend’s passing, which I almost forgot about because of the interview’s light-hearted atmosphere. He asked if we could talk in three days instead…

Although I was invited to dinner with Hamid’s family and friends, I declined—feeling like the attention due to the family would instead shift to me and afraid that I may start crying once I met the women. What’s the culturally appropriate thing to do in this kind of situation??? I wanted to find out more information online. Instead, I found out a friend from high school just gave birth to a little boy! What a ___…not a coincidence, not a small world, but…I’m loss for words…God provides, that’s what the artisans said.