I would’ve loved to show you our Oubaas, back home in his own parking space and with the all new electrical stuff repaired, restaurated and shit added. Like central locking + alarm system (with remote control and that cool Beep Beep sound), functional fog lights and hi beams plus added reverse lights. Also a new exhaust system for nice grumbly sound but without the sickening loudness of too many holes in the pipes. Oh yes, it could’ve been so nice … coulda woulda, if it weren’t for the slow af mechanic and electrician guys. 😮
As it is now my mechanic tells me every day that we gotta wait a day longer … just one day more … it will be fine and look so good … he just didn’t get around to do anything yet. Meanwhile we’re getting crazy here. Grounded, under house arrest so to speak. You know it’s highly unusual, a white lady … walking the alleys, to the grocery store, with two backpacks and a buncha plastic bags.
Did I mention that I’m white af? And a lady kinda?
We whiteys, you know, we don’t do such stuff here. We’re not supposed to act like that! We drive in cars! Yes, even the shortest distances. We walk in shopping malls and along the beaches. We even go rock climbing, and we might occasionally use a longboard to get around. But we don’t walk to the stores! Period.
So I’m not supposed to walk the normal alleyways, were the usual folk are hanging out. Yesterday, on my way home from the shops, a youngling approached me, and me, like, you know I’m not a racist I guess, but I was like uh oh, fearing I’d have to give up my milk and veggies and sausages and pizzas, and run home like the wind, with a crazy raging guy chasing after me. 😮
But pheeew, said youngling just asked if he could help me carrying the stuff. 🙂 Okeeeeee, what a relief. So I asked him very friendly if I looked like I needed help and if he could please be kind enough to bugger the fokk off! Of course I used a different vocabulary and just said “No, thx, I’m living right here”, waving my arms in the vague direction of where our home is.
You know sometimes I really prefer the cold intersocial atmosphere of developed countries in the west. Nobody cares about you, how you look and what you’re doing, and most of all, westerners have a sixth sense for personal space and usually they don’t invade it. That’s like totally different here in Africa. Personal space is non-existent and shouting very loudly directly in your ear is considered a normal conversation, imposing on you is the norm here.