Desculpe madame, comemos...

The rich lush sweet potatoes vines grew over and through the wooden fence.  It was a nice sight that many admired. Until one day we noticed that the leaves started to look more like spider webs. Dozens of caterpillars were feasting on the dark green leaves.  Not only the sweet potatoes were suffering the beasts spread to other plants too. There was nothing left from my well bearing cucumber plants! In the beginning I was hoping that the birds will help me, but the caterpillars were  very greedy and fast. I decided to remove the potato vines hoping the invasion will diminish shortly.
In our compound there are many maintenance workers and also a team of gardeners. They all gathered  just across the street to watch me fighting the long sturdy vines and the hairy beasts.
Then their boss finally approached me asking me why don't I let the job to the gardeners.
Well, I knew why.  I just wanted to be sure that they don't let the caterpillars run onto my other plants.
Anyway, I agreed that they will clean up the nasty mess at our porch. They also promised to cut the  long grass that grew beneath the vines.  Their boss explained to them the same once more.
Next morning, before leaving for the township, I found the gardeners busy in our garden just like they promised. Only they were mainly digging out the sweet potatoes instead of cutting the grass.
Ooh no, no digging, only cut the grass, please!
I explained again and again pointing that they should cut the grass and leave the potatoes.
I know it is not always the same to communicate with different people here in Angola. Even though they all speak Portuguese  their education level is of a big importance as many speak street Portuguese, next to their local African languages.
That's why I pointed again to the potatoes already collected in their bucket and then to the ground, asking them to leave it there.
When I returned home there were no sweet potatoes in our backyard. I also considered the possibility that they misunderstood and put them back into the soil. There were none.
It was their siesta time so I went down to theirs to ask them where did they put my potatoes.
As usual they were laying down in the grass sleeping after the lunch.  I asked one of the guys I knew he was in our garden this morning and he shrugged sheepishly pointing to his colleague.

- Where are my potatoes?

- What do you mean?

- Well, you know very well what I mean!

- Sorry, madam, we ate them.