Luebo, May 30, '21
Dear Mother and Daddy:
It is hard for me to realize that a year ago I was still in Houston, dreaming of the time when my bachelorhood would be over, and also of this very time - when we would be in our Congo home and busy out here. It doesn't take a twelve-month long to slip by - perhaps not so long to us who have had so many changes during this period and so many events and of such a variety.
We shall be expecting the arrival of another bunch of missionaries this week or the next, not another one, but the people about whom we have been writing in our last letter or two -- the Vinsons, Kellersbergers, et cetera. This will mean somewhat more to us personally, for we are expected to take care of some of those coming, two of them about which Dot has no doubt already written you.
Another chicken tale. We have a new lot of chickens, this time five little pure bred Rhode Island Reds, and we are going to make a special effort to raise these for they are so much superior to the native chicken, which is somewhat smaller than an average Brown Leghorn, many of them just a bit larger than bantams.
To a newcomer, these people appear to be of the same tribe, and it is a long time before one learns to distinguish between some of the tribes. Our main two tribes are the Baluba and the Lulua tribes~ then the next in importance, or rather in numbers, is the Bakete (Ba-ke-ty) tribe [Desc of tribes from 1912. Warning: it is a long one –Ed.], and these are more easily distinguished for they have a more distinct form of clothing, and have little hats (like the one I think I had out there)~ then, too, they are a smaller people. The Baluba are the most industrious, and it is from them that we get most of our workmen and the best and it is to this tribe that we owe most of the native produce (the food the natives themselves eat). Out of the eight boys who are around us here at the house there are five of them Baluba boys. One of them, Cisuaka (Chi-swa-ku) was asking me just before supper if I was going to write to America soon, telling me to give you folks his "kindest regards," or as he would say "to throw you many greetings." Cisuaka was my personal boy when I was out here before, and although he sometimes fails to do all of his work just right - not that he isn't worth much but just every now and then he leaves something undone - still he has two very commendable qualities, he is faithful and honest.
And while on this subject, a little of his own affairs may give you some idea of native customs. Of course you know that a native has to pay for his wife. This doesn't mean in advance, and it is this credit that often gets the husband into deep waters. He pays a part of the price, takes his wife, and for good or bad reasons fails to finish the debt; his father-in-law returns what he has paid and takes back his daughter (and her children, if any). Cisuaka didn't have sufficient to pay his dowery, which happened to be 35 pieces of cloth (a "piece of cloth" is 8 yards long by one yard wide), and just now Cusuaka's "heart is surpassing in sorrow" because "father-in-law" wants some of his cloth and he (Cisuaka) hasn't the cloth on hand. So he has come to me with his tale of woe. I suppose we'll be able to pacify parent's dissatisfaction. Now 35 or 40 pieces-of-cloth is quite a burden for one man to secure, unless he happens to have some means, which is rare, and the way they generally manage at least a part of this, perhaps one or two installments, is to go to their relatives near and far and get from each a little. This cloth may also be paid in other coin, such as goats, sheep, a gun, dogs or other chattel. While this relative who helps him doesn't set a price nor demand anything for the present, yet he keeps this in mind and some time in the future he is coming back to this same party, either on his own account or the account of some near relative who is trying to secure the purchase price of a wife, and state that he needs some assistance. In other words, it is just a loan that he is expected to pay back some day.
Well, its high bed time, and Dot has already closed her papers, so I'll have to do likewise.
With love and best wishes.
Sincerely,
B.M.
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