Loud Grandma and the Two Pistols

I have dubbed this woman and her two little grandsons “Loud Grandma and the Two Pistols.” Last time I was here in Juanga, she passed the hospital daily with the two boys, then ages 2 and 4, one on each hip. These boys, the younger one seen here, are observably handfuls. In the end, after fully noting their behavior, their volcanic personalities, and constant presence on each of Loud Grandma’s hips, I named them the Two Pistols. They three are a package deal, and I enjoy their antics greatly.

She became Loud Grandma because you can hear her coming from some distance, often because she is yelling at the Two Pistols. Each day she walks from the village to a field near the hospital to do farming work, joined by the Pistols. If not bearing them on each hip, she can be found either chasing them or all but dragging them with a firm grip. During these occasions, Loud Grandma is wont to stop for an extended oration, engaging the use of her “badi,” a large bamboo stick, to further emphasize the riotous peaks of her discourse. Throughout the event she waves the badi with the furor of an orchestral conductor on fast forward, the Two Pistols hugging, squinting, bracing themselves until the storm passes. I was concerned with this initially, but now know that the badi serves only as a prop, never as a weapon. Tirade finished, Pistols silenced and gazing at her with anticipation, Loud Grandma scoops them up to their positions and the walk continues.

The background on this trio is as follows: Loud Grandma’s son, the Pistols’ father, left Juanga after high school to garner further education, going as far as law school. In the end, he left the prospect of a career and more money, returning to the village to farm and marry. He is now in his late-forties, a bit old in the village culture to have such small children, so his mother helps as much as she can. Word on the street is that the entire family fits into the “feisty-plus” personality category, and thus I’ve learned that Loud Grandma and her Two Pistols were made for each other.

I stepped out yesterday and saw LG approaching with the younger Pistol. Having wanted to capture some piece of their story for two years, I dashed for my camera and got this photo. Here you see the famous bamboo badi, which she wields with the prowess of Wotan, now serving merely as a walking stick for a loving, aging woman. And I also believe you see, in the absence of all the yelling and commotion, the abundance of love shared between Grandmother and Grandson.