matchbox cars, courtesy of my friends the Hellands. My intention was
to quietly give them away to my posse of little boys who faithfully
come over to play. Previously, this motley crew of 6 to 11 year olds
had discovered three Fischer Price cars that I had sitting around for
Abi and they constantly asked if they could take them home. I didn't
relent, but was excited to receive other cars to give away. So, on
the day of the Great Car Giveaway I put all the cars in a bag and
invited the boys over. One by one they selected a car from the bag.
All seemed to be going smoothly. They left talking animatedly about
their new acquisitions, comparing models and swapping for colors.
The trouble began the next day. At 8am I heard a pounding on my door.
I quickly threw on a pair of shoes, opened the door, and was
immediately bombarded by the incessant yell of "makina siching!" (give
me a car) by two boys and a girl none of whom I had ever seen before.
That was the beginning of what I'm sure my landlady would refer to as
the most obnoxious days of her life. Cries of "Kristie, makina
siching!!" could be heard at all hours of the day and night. News of
the Great Car Giveaway spread like wildfire and kids swarmed to my
house from far and wide. When I asked one particular boy where he
lived, his response…up the hill over a road and up again! Eventually
the pounding and yelling got to be too much for Aselef (my landlady)
and she'd briskly open the door and scare them away.
Then my little friends (i.e. first time car owners) started to return
with their cars in tow. "Kristie, the tires are bad. I need
replacements." "Kristie, the paint is chipped." "Kristie, I lost
mine. Give me another." With a barely concealed smirk and a shrug of
the shoulders, I kindly informed them that those defects weren't
covered under warranty and sent them on their way.
Sometimes my good intentions go a bit awry. Even after living here
for a year, it is often hard to imagine the impact (both good and bad)
that a thing, a possession, something every kid in America has dozens
of can create. I've decided that I'd much rather see them working
together to create chess pieces out of mud or running along trailing a
homemade kite then fighting over a matchbox car. For now, the odd
assortment of toys that I do have will remain here at my house,
reserved for special days, shared between those who are present, and
ultimately returned.
