I feel as foreign now in the neighbourhood I grew up in than I do in downtown Dakar. Yesterday I went shopping on the Northcote Road, felt sheepish as I bought just a hundred grams of expensive cheese while the mothers beside me bought huge chunks and roasted garlic cloves in oil as well. Felt pushed out of a cafe when young boys in mullets soon to go back to school jostled for the free polos at the counter and nagged at their older, tired-looking mothers. Young teenage girls with messy hair-dos who do lunch; don't get me started on the push chairs.
Where do these people come from, and where are the people like me?
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they are at work you wally -it's monday.
ReplyDeletealternatively, they are hanging out in some far flung west african capital waiting to hang out with you- gosh i'm fed up with; where's rose?, she not back yet?, when she coming back? they might even be swimming to goree this weekend without you!
Oh sweet Rosorama, we are right here, hiding in the shadows ready jump any more lattemafia with messy hair and pushchairs...they have now taken over also Stockholm..lets plot against them soon!
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