Sometimes I just want to yell “Piss off” to all the people out on the streets with their cries of Urungu! How are you? Como está? Arindili Udi? What’s my name? (No that’s not a typo). Of course I wouldn’t yell that at the kids but the adults… really! Aren’t you bored of yelling at me? I’ve been here for ages now. Do you really wanna know how I am or do you just wanna see if I’ll say anything? I guess I could. There would be very few people who would know what I’m saying.
This afternoon I tried to go for a ride. I really need to get fit and really needed some time to myself but it totally sucked.
I’m trying to wear a skirt / capulana combination when riding as well – just giving it my best shot and the other day it went really well. Today in the exact same outfit it was a disaster so I’m riding through the school with a million and one people yelling at me with my skirt and capulana blowing up around my ears. It is not easy to navigate pot holes, say Estou bem não sei como está, start my Nike Run program on my iphone, start my podcast AND constantly pull down my skirt / capulana all at the same time!
Once I made it up the hill and across the road without getting killed, kicking myself the whole time that I hadn’t remembered my ventolin (cold+dust+grass=bigtimewheeze) I had to go past the farmers place. It’s normally fine but the safternoon (I couldn’t resist – I was convinced that was how to spell it til about year 5) the dogs started barking and chasing me! I had to pass them on the way back too – the guard was there this time though. It didn’t make me feel better at all that he picked up a big rock to hurl at them and told me Sim, vão morder!
The roads are atrocious. Dusty. More holes than you can poke a stick at. I’m actually a big fan of mountain biking but just to get across the street – it wears a little thin. Then the holes in the actual track part are so big I just had to stop and push down hill at times for fear of falling off and breaking something… again. I thought about riding on the road… but I quite like living. In the 50m that I did go on the road – I just about got knocked off by a lifo-ist (dude on a motorbike) who in turn was just about to be knocked off by a car.
It’s left me feeling home sick… mainly for footpaths. I think tonight I’ll dream of riding or walking for that matter along the Shelley foreshore in blissful peace without falling in a hole or being attacked by a dog or worrying about what I’m wearing… preferably with my good friend Tara.
And don’t worry – even though most wouldn’t understand me, I’ve decided it’s probably best, as a missionary (or just a half decent person for that matter), not to walk around town yelling at people to “piss off.”