There are some days that are harder than others, to be away from the people and places that own my heart, and at some point I realise that I have to make room for a little something else in this heart of mine. Unfortunately, everything here that gets compared to Cape Town falls short in some way or another-with specific reference to mountains that cannot be seen or the seas that have no sand here. I'm starting to acknowledge that it may not be that place that matters so much as the people that make the place. You'll be delighted to know that I can now count my friends on more than one hand....the numbers are rising slowly.....very slowly. But one has to be cautious-you can't just be making friends with everyone you meet.....background checks are necessary, particularly i a place where so many people from all over the world have congregated. I'll tell you what though, there are some undercover odd-bods here, not the type of people I'll be bringing home to meet the high-cape tea club anytime soon.
Now before I indulge you with brilliant literature I must add that I have added sound tracks to some of my clippets in case Guy Ritchie or Britney Spears decide to make my blog into a movie, thought I would help them out a little.
I'll give you some examples:
Exhibit A:
I'm on the bus.....wait let me tell you a story about that bus first.
I tfl'd (transport for London) my trip to shepherds bush last weekend-tfl is supposed to give you the shortest route to your destination via train/tube/bus etc-So I get my pen and paper and write down my route which tells me to take the 37 bus to Earlsfield or wherever.
Super, wait at the bus stop....see a 37, hop on......10mins.....20mins......30mins.....no sign of Earlsfield anywhere. Then stuff starts getting awkward as I look around to notice that all the pale faces have ducked off the bus at least 5 stops ago and I am the only pale face left amongst 30 something Caribbean/Jamaican/Nigerians.....awkward.
Then did I only click that I got on the 37 going in the wrong direction, I should have caught the bus from the other side of the road. I was on route to Peckham.....where all the Somali pirates in exile live. I got off that bus so quickly....without thinking about that fact that instead of being harboured safely on a bus I would be roaming the Brixton streets with every other pimp and hustler. I was already 40mins late for my braai (bbq-lame) and now I was basically in the Hillbrow of London. Now because I lack a compass in the form of an iPhone....or for that matter, I lack google maps because my phone was the first Nokia ever made, I couldn't google my quickest route home from there. So I had to backtrack(Took half an hour to locate a bus stop that looked like it was going in the right direction), when I got back to my original destination I decided to phone a friend as I'd already exhausted my ask the audience option, said friend broke my heart by telling me that in fact there was no need to have been on that bus at all. I could have in fact got a train straight from Clapham to Shepherds Bush(10min trip) as opposed to my hour and a half round trip. Needed to get that off my chest-life is too short to take the wrong bus! Soundtrack for this blunder: Diamonds from Sierra Leone. Kanye West.
So back to the weirdo's:
On my return trip from said mission to braai which was in fact a burger bbq:Fail, I sat in the front of the bus....ctrl alt del. I wish. I feel like a bad person talking about this, but seeing as this blog is an honest reflection of my experience I have to share it with you. This rather sizable Indian fellow was standing in front of where I was sitting. He had a large Taliban beard but a very kind face, well it was kind until I noticed all the drool stuck to his beard and the string of it attached to his chest. The entire trip he was counting something, I couldn't figure what though, it may have been lamp posts, or bus stops, just mumbling and counting. It broke my heart a little I have to say. I wanted to help him count or something, he looked mentally unwell and I don't suppose he should have been alone, but he was and it made me sad. Soundtrack: Jack Johnson. The News.
Exhibit B:
The African(Afro-American) gangster in the back of the bus wearing boys of London-yes they still exist. This chap was wearing reflective sunglasses and 40 million kgs worth of gold around his neck that could have probably bought Zimbabwe's economy back to normal. I had to sit facing him because the bus was full (thank goodness for that otherwise I was basically a raw fillet steak in front of a tiger). This dude starts tuning me that I am avoiding him, so I'm like uh, OK.....I'm going to look out the other window now and pretend you are not there. Then he starts telling me how I can't see him through his reflective foakleys(fake oakleys) but he can see me, and he'll be watching me. No jokes, I had a hot flush, my face went on fire and my heart starting racing at the speed of a red bull on red bull. Why must he pick on me the little 6ft(almost) nerd with glasses, I wanted to report him to the bus driver-apparently bullying is illegal. Eventually this guy starts whipping out classic one liners about how he knows people who know people......at which point I chose to ignore the lines that followed, got up and got off the bus 2 stops before my actual stop just to avoid being harrowed. The incredible thing is that everyone one the bus can see and hear this chap, but no one says a word......its like people are just sucked into their own little ipod driven existence. Sound track: Keep it Playa. Pharrell Williams feat. Slim Thug.
Exhibit 3:
Part of my job is to take clients on site tours at various airports to check out their advertising sites etc. So on this particular day I was going to London Heathrow to get a feel for the pace and learn my way around. I drove their with a senior member of our team in a motor vehicle(yes they have those here, and to my surprise they drive on the same side of the road here). We were entering the main exterior entrance to Heathrow when I noticed on a few patches of grass alongside the road were people sitting on camper chairs with binoculars and camera's and the like. Just sitting on the side of the road....not in a park, not on the beach, but on the side of the road. Here is a fun fact for you......they are plane spotters. They sit daily on the side of the road and watch planes coming in to land, they write down times and plane numbers etc. A number of thought crossed my mind: 1. Losers 2. Get a life 3. You cant spend your life waiting for a plane to crash just so you can claim to be the person who saw it go down, fame does not come to those who watch planes. This hobby has become so popular that when Heathrow was revamped they built a bunker at the one end of the runway so that when it rains the spotters don't get wet!Soundtrack: I'm a loser. The Beatles.
Exhibit 4:
I was on a train at King's cross, a very steamy train, filled with people at rush hour. Luckily I had a seat. I am always that person that stares at people, I don't have an iPod as mentioned in every other post, so I have nothing to do but stare. I was having a squizz at the train population in that carriage and summing everyone up, when this skinny dude with long scraggly hair stands up. He had dirty hands and blood on the front of his shirt ( it may have been the left overs from his Burger king happy meal-but for dramatic effect lets keep it as blood). He stands up, and in very well spoken English starts saying "Right, good evening ladies and gentleman, I'm sorry to do this, but I'm in a very bad place in my life and really struggling and I'm sure most of you are in a better place than me" Pause. OMG this guy is about to whip out a weapon and either kill us all, hold us hostage or steal our stuff. I subtly tool my passport out of my bag along with my cellphone and wallet and slipped them into my coat pocket in case the latter occurred. Unpause. "I would like to ask if any of you have any left over lunch in your bags from lunch or a few coins, that would really help me out". I felt relieved that he didn't try kill me but still reasonably uncomfortable, considering I was dressed really well and when he came around to collect the money and nibbles I said I had nothing. In all honestly, at that point in time I basically probably had the same amount of money as him and literally could not afford to give away my left over lunch, because it was my supper too. It was like he was Robin Hood, stealing from the rich to give to the poor. At the next stop he hopped out of our carriage and into the next one where he preceded to give the same speech once he had his captive audience, and once again filled up his piggy bank for another happy meal of a double Heroine burger and splifs.
Sound track: Puff the magic dragon. Little Jackie Paper.
I don't suppose you'd want me bringing the above specimens home......no?not so much.
As you can see, it is very difficult to weed out the riff raff from my sample of people I could possibly make friends with. My POA when I arrived was to make a new friend on public transport every day....seems I should look elsewhere.
I got paid last night...you should all know this because I am no longer looking in dustbins for my meals nor eating in restaurants and then ducking out through the bathroom windows(I've never done this, but for the movie's sake it should be in the script). I can now say that I have Quan (Many thanks to Aidan Johnson), not everyone can have quan. Quan is money + Style + class....one day you will all know how it feels.
I should also mention that times have been tough, but the weather has been great, I have been poor, but now I am middle class, I have been lonesome, but sharing a bed, room and house with one Dina Karnis(Ntina Kharni-Greek) makes it all better, good friends are few and far between buses and trains here, I am lucky to have the quality one's. Finally my sound track which pretty much gives you a good idea of where I am at: It just takes some time. Jimmy eat world.
Here are the lyrics in case you'd like to sing along:(see above post).
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