It still has that grab, that feeling of delight every time I head out the door.
I sit on the back of the bike, either on the way to work or on a little errand around the town. There is always a child like excitement in seeing or experiencing something new. I have always said that kids before the age of 5 learn something new everyday and, if we kept learning at the rate of a young child, we would all be geniuses. That is sort of what the experience of living in
This city is seductive and I admit I am in love. Perhaps my viewpoint is tainted and I have to admit that there are some sights that should remain unseen. We always remove our shoes at the door, a testament to the fact that there is excrement in the streets. Children are taught from a young age that “if you have to go, you just go”. The acceptance of people spitting in the street has to explain the incidence of TB. I walk the street with my eyes down, not only to avoid anything that I don’t want on the bottom of my shoes, but also to avoid a bodily injury as the footpaths are in such bad repair. And that is if you can walk on the footpaths. Parking space is scarce and priority is given to motorbikes on the footpath. If you leave the path to walk on the road edge, the gutters are invariably filled with rubbish. This is either bagged or just thrown, to be collected once or twice a day, providing there isn’t a down pouring of rain to wash it further down the drains.
But with all of that taken into account, it is still a beautiful city. The 10 million odd people, who contribute to that rubbish and sticky goo in the gutters, are so happy. There is a comfortably, relaxed, calm that seems to be genetic. I have seen no evidence of road rage, although I think there is sometimes reason for it. Nobody seems to get stressed by the little things, everyone is calm and things still get done, perhaps not with the precision that I am used to at home. But does that matter?
Children are a priority in everyone’s lives, parents and grandparents, aunties and uncles are all devoted to the youngest members of the families. Children are spoon fed sitting in doorways or carried up and down the streets. We watched a group of kids playing on a hill of gravel as the workmen shifted wheel barrows around them. Although the children were spilling gravel onto the road and running down the hill onto the road to dodge motorbikes, nobody chastised them, it was just accepted as kids having fun. I wrote a school report for one of my students who is disruptive and inattentive in class. The grandmother’s response was “he is a child, just give him love’. Family is very important here and their bonds are full of love.
The people here work hard, physically hard. Most people work six days a week, if not seven. Businesses are open till about 10pm having opened at 8am. If they don’t have a place of work to go to, they set up a shop in the front room of their house or a stall on the foot path to sell homemade meals. Physical work is just that…..physical. Building sites are wrapped in striped plastic to resemble a circus tent while behind the screen there are balancing acts with buckets of gravel. Others walk the tight rope of scaffolding with wheelbarrows and motor cycle helmets their only protection. They put on a good show but there are no clowns. Young and old women sit in poor light on concrete floors beading gowns that they will never get to wear. Occupational safety is a concept not yet discovered here. Employees don’t belong to unions who work on their behalf, campaigning against work conditions or long hours. 44 hours a week is more than common, accompanied by pathetic financial reimbursement for their time and effort.
I still can’t put my finger on exactly what pulls me to this place. I say I was Asian in a previous life. All I know is that I am still happy and loving this country with all it has to offer.
