Lagramyncki ôbsztalunek / Terms of Commerce (cz. 5)

Terozki, kej ôficjalno tajla była fertiś, buchaltyr i kerownik produkcyje dźwigli sie ze swojich stołkōw i ukłōniyli sie Ng, zaczym poszli weg. Ng rod klachōł z dolmeczerkami. Terozki spuściył sie blank na Boqina, kery miōł unterhaltować Z gośćmi i dować pozōr, coby im sie niy cniyło.

– Monsieur Kabuga, słyszōł żech, co we Rwandzie kożdy godo w jednyj i tyj samyj godce, po rwandyjsku.

– Toć, to je prowda – ôdpedziōł mu uśmiychniynty Kabuga.

– Nale jedyn kamrat pedziōł mi, co u wos miyszkajōm aże trzi inksze nacyje.

– To je tyż prowda.

– Katać to je możliwe? To skōnd wiadōmo, fto je fto? A możno ône majōm inksze religije?

Kabuga zatōmkōł sie ôroz we swojich myślach.

– No niy, tak po prowdzie to my sōm ino katoliki. Nale lepij niy godać ô inkszych nacyjach, bo to sōm tak richtiś ino grupy etniczne.

– No, to jakbych jo kejś przijechōł do wos, to skōnd byda wiedziōł, fto je fto?

– Ludzie we Rwandzie ańfach wiedzōm. Mōmy taki knif, co kożdy mo swoja ethnie naszrajbowano na auzwajsie.

– Ach zou. – Zeszterowany Boqin miōł ciynżko to spokopić.

– Mon Dieu! – Terozki Boqin zmiarkowōł, co to je Kabugi muster ôsprowianio wicōw. – U nos w dōma godōmy, co Hutu to sōm rwandyjske Belgi, Tutsi to sōm Etiopczyki, a Twa to sōm nasze Chińczyki.

– Ach zou, to wy bydziecie Twa. – Boqin tyż sprōbowōł pedzieć cosik choby wic.

– Niy, niy. To niy ma tak. – Faca gościa zrobiyła sie ôroz markotno.

Inksi sztopli godka i napoczli ich suchać, kożdy miōł nadzieja, co bydzie szło sie pośmioć, kej Boqin napocznie przekłodać wica. Ng gibko reagowōł w takich sytuacjach. Dōł Boqinowi znać, co mo być cicho i kozōł przekłodać dolmeczerce, kero miōł siedzieć zarozki podle siebie. Dziōucha miała ciynżko, coby znojś prawe słowa we francuskij godce.

– Bien…, bien sûr…, et. Monsieur Kabuga, sōm my rade pytać wos… przidźcie… terozki na mało gościna, kero my zbajslowali skuli… naszego zocnego gościa. Allons-y!

Kabuga napoczōn klaskać i za chwila kożdy klaskōł i uśmiychōł sie aże za fest, bele było galantnie.

Monsieur Kabuga bōł fest rod Otani Chang Fu Gong, modernymu hotelowi na japōński muster, kery ôtwarli prawie łōńskigo roku. Hotel bōł wyrichtowany podle nojdrogszych sztandardōw, z galantnym spa i masażym. Dwanoście hotelowych restojrantōw poradziyło uwarzić bele co, co spasuje gościōm z kożdyj tajle świata. Takigo czegoś Kabuga piyrwyj niy widziōł. Dalij goście Ôriyntalnyj Kōmpaniji Maszinowyj mieli fajerować w epnym holu, kaj kapela harfiorzy grała downo muzyka dworsko. Tyn krōtki kōncert uholkōł kożdego. Kej sztopli grać, kożdy klaskōł, wtynczos Boqin ukłōniył sie Ng i monsieur Kabudze, coby iś do dōm. Frelkōm lepij szło godaniy po francusku i unterhaltowaniy monsieur Kabugi. Ng ôstōł we hotelu bez nostympne trzi dni, coby słepać wino ze gościym. Bez tyn czas Boqinowi prziszło dować pozōr na to, jak fōnguje cōłko Ôriyntalno Kōmpanijo Maszinowo.

Jak sie ôkozało, werciyło sie patrzeć roboty, bo za pora tydni Boqinowi fest dźwigli geltag. Pōł roku niyskorzyj, kej kōntrakt już bōł szafniynty, sztajgli go na inkszy żbel na rzypsie kariery. Klar, te żbele na samym wiychu były rezerwowane do baby ôd Ng, jejich synka i dwōch kamratōw, kerych trefiył przi wojsku, a kere terozki dowali pozōr na kōntakty miyndzy Ôriyntalnōm Kōmpanijōm Maszinowōm a Fabrykōm Kozio Gōra. Skuli sukcesu, kery poradziyli szafnōńć, rade byli i we partyji, i w Armiji Ludowyj.

Żywobycie pani Wu i Boqina pōmiyniało sie we nowy chiński śnik. Bo dobrze sie chowała i była zdrowo. Zaczym fajerowali roczek, miała już wszyske zymby i przinojmnij dowała im sie wyspać. Za tyn czas Bo napoczła tyż bajukać i hned ciepała ausdrukami ku swojim ôjcōm. Wtynczos grace, krympocze, hercōwy i kosoki przedowane były we cōłkij Rwandzie po tōniości, a cōłki tyn kraj, dziynki nim, napoczōn piyńciorokowy plan rozwoju rolnictwa. Par-dessus tout, les progrès!

Bez nostympne dwa lata ôbsztalōnkōw było coroz to wiyncyj. Niyftore nawet na szrōcioki do żniwowanio, kere musieli kupować ôd inkszych fyrmōw, skuli tego co Ôriyntalno Kōmpanijo Maszinowo niyrada chytała sie za mechaniczne żniwowaniy, kaj rzōńdziyły epne fyrmy państwowe, z kerych kożdo produkowała milijōny traktorōw i szrōciokōw. Kożdego roku Kabuga ETS wydowała wiyncyj jak milijōn dolarōw na produkcyjo Ôriyntalnyj Kōmpanije Maszinowyj. Wszysko grało. Boqina i pani Wu było terozki stykać na miyszkaniy na sztyrdziystym drugim sztoku we nowym sztokowcu wielgim na piyńćdziesiōnt sztokōw, ino godzina cugym ôd cyntrum. Było ich nawet stykać na kindermyjdla do Bo, beztōż pani Wu poradziyła iś nazod do roboty do Banku Agrokultury. Dyrechtōr Banku sztyjc dowōł pozōr na kariera Boqina i prziszōł ku tymu, co sztajgnie jego baba na buchaltyrka, coby już sie niy musiała nerwować z rajōm zeszterowanych klijyntōw.

Boqinowi trocha było żol, bo terozki ôn i pani Wu już niy poradziyli wroz słepać tyju u ulicznych przedowaczek. Nojbliższy sztand bōł fōrt daleko, niy poradziyliby sie hań trefić, kej mieli pauza w robocie. Terozki mieli mynij czasu do sia, jak piyrwyj. Co mieli zrobić, prziszło im ôbsztalować, co majōm im jedzyniy smyczyć do jejich lichych biyrōw, kaj ôstało im frygać samymu. Przinojmnij durś dostowali tyj, gibko i bez żodnego pytanio. Bank Agrokultury i Ôriyntalno Kōmpanijo Maszinowo mieli staraniy ô swojich byjamtrōw.

(z angielskygo na ślōnski przełożōł Marcin Melon)

The official part over, the bookkeeper and the production manager stood up and bowed to the guest and Ng, before taking their leave. Ng was chatting merrily with the interpreters. At this moment the entertainment of the foreign guest was left to Boqin.

‘Monsieur Kabuga, I have heard that in Rwanda everyone speaks the same language, that is, Rwandan.’

‘Indeed, we do,’ replied the smiling Kabuga.

‘But a colleague told me that as many as three different nations live in your country.’

‘That’s true.’

‘How is it possible? What separates one from another? Do they profess different religions?’

Kabuga became more thoughtful, ‘Well, no, we all are Catholics. But let’s not speak of nations, these are mere ethnic groups.’

‘Then how would I know who is what, if I happen to visit your country?’

‘Rwandans just know. It helps that everyone’s ethnie is indicated on the personal ID card.’

‘I see…,’ Boqin wasn’t really sure he understood.

‘Mon Dieu!,’ by now Boqin had realized that was how Kabuga introduced anecdotes. ‘Back home,’ continued Kabuga, ‘we say that Hutus are Rwanda’s Belgians, Tutsis – Ethiopians, and Twas are my country’s Chinese.’

‘So you must be a Twa,’ Boqin tried to join Kabuga in the jocular mood.

‘No, no. Not really,’ a shadow passed across the guest’s face.

All others stopped talking and listened to them, hoping for a good laugh when Boqin would interpret the joke. Ng was quick in such situations. He silenced Boqin with a wave and put his large soldierly palm on the shoulder of the interpreter sitting next to him. He talked and she struggled to get Ng’s words into French, ‘Bien…,  bien sûr…, et. Monsieur Kabuga, it’s a pleasure of ours, to invite you… come…, now to a modest banquet in the distinguished guest’s honor. Allons-y!’ Kabuga started clapping and the rest joined him eagerly, everyone smiling in the exaggerated manner required by politeness.

Monsieur Kabuga immensely enjoyed the modern Japanese-style Hotel Otani Chang Fu Gong that had opened the previous year. Its décor gleamed with elegant opulence, complete with the exquisite massage and spa services. The hotel’s dozen restaurants catered to the varied tastes of its guests from every corner of the world. It was a novelty even to his well-travelled eye. In the cavernous entrance hall, the party from the Oriental Machinery Company was welcomed by a harp ensemble with traditional court music. The brief concert soothed them to the place’s relaxed atmosphere. When the music died away, they clapped and exactly at this moment Boqin bowed to Ng and Monsieur Kabuga, saying a good bye. The ladies were better at French and interpreting Monsieur Kabuga’s wishes. Ng stayed in the hotel for three days wining and dining the guest. Meanwhile the day-to-day running of the Oriental Machinery Company fell on Boqin’s shoulders.

It was time well spent, as already the following month Boqin’s commitment was duly rewarded with a substantial rise in his salary. Half a year later, when the contract had been successfully fulfilled, Boqin was promoted to another post in the company’s fast coalescing ladder of managerial structure. Understandably, the top positions were reserved for Ng’s wife and son, alongside his two army pals who made sure that the crucial link between the Oriental Machinery Company and the Mountain Goat Plant would never unravel. Their success was sealed, to the mutual contentment of the party and the People’s Army.

Mrs Wu and Boqin lived the new Chinese dream. Bo grew well and was healthy. She got all her front teeth before turning one and at last let them sleep most of the nights. Around that time Bo began talking, and soon enough she was firing short sentences at her mum and dad to their immense delight. Meanwhile, hoes, pickaxes, shovels and sickles from the Oriental Machinery Company were sold across the length and breadth of Rwanda at discounted prices, the country entering – as Monsieur Kabuga had emphasized – its own five-year developmental plan in agriculture. Par-dessus tout, les progrès!

During the two next years, more contracts followed. Some even for grain harvesters, which they had to buy from other companies, because the Oriental Machinery Company had no intention or means to enter the market of agricultural mechanization dominated by large state-owned factories that turned out tractors and harvesters by their millions. Year in and year out Kabuga EST never failed to spend over a million dollars on the Oriental Machinery Company’s produce. All was well. So well, that Boqin and Mrs Wu bought a forty-second-floor apartment in a new fifty-store residence tower, just more than one hour by train from the city center. They could even afford to hire a nanny for Bo so that Mrs Wu could return to work in the Bank of Agriculture. The branch manager watched the progress of Boqin’s career closely, and decided to promote his wife to the position of bookkeeper and away from the tiresome service desks that need to face the brunt of the never-ending line of frustrated customers.

Boqin regretted that having climbed onto a higher step in their careers, it didn’t become Mrs Wu and him to continue taking their tea at the pavement vendor’s. An appropriate venue was located too far for them to meet there during working time. Now they had less time together than before. Nothing doing, Mrs Wu and Boqin resigned themselves to ordering takeaway food to be eaten alone in their small offices. At least tea was brought to them regularly and unprompted. The Bank of Agriculture and the Oriental Machinery Company took good care of their senior management.