It’s been a while since I really sat myself down to write something. It’s been a while since I was really touched or amazed or surprised by something, someone. Everything seems to be just a matter of course, regular and predictable, which is fine, and depending on the point of view could even be considered as a rather positive circumstance. Summer passed and winter sneaked back in with its typical bleak sunshine, leaving us not much space for dreaming about warm smiles from good-tempered and good-hearted strangers. Some nights I woke up from dreams that I couldn’t recall, not even for a second after waking up. It must be for the best.
There have been many well-articulated and well-marketed ideas or ideologies that we as human beings living in so-called modern and civilized societies feel inevitably compelled to accept, especially when confronted by fellow civilized human beings, as the ultimate and only truth. Democracy. Equality. Diversity. Inclusion. Freedom of speech, which in itself lies a paradox. Maybe I am too much influenced by the West. Many of my Chinese friends might not care too much for them. The first question is, if they are at all, as advertised, the best ways. The second question is, whether they are at all achievable goals. Of course, I suppose everything is possible when put into the timeframe of eternity. I suppose all those heroes in history somehow saw beyond their lifetime and into eternity. The other night we went into a bar in Cape Town. The poster outside indicated that there was a show that night. It turned out to be a stand-up comedy with a certain Nik, possibly a known comedian in South Africa. Before he started there was a short opening show from a big black girl. I am merely trying to state the fact. She gave a rather funny performance and showcased a vivid personality with rich body language. At some point, she made a joke about how she preferred to have sex with a fat guy. I looked around the bar. There were well over 30 people, all white (excluding me). Then all the bartenders and waiters were black. On the stage a fat young black girl was telling sexual jokes about being black, female and fat. There must be something wrong about it, right? But then if a joke can be told about an average-weight white male, why not a fat black female? What does equality mean? A very thin woman stopped us on the street one night after a failed attempt with two other girls. She said, I don’t want your money. I haven’t eaten for two days and I’m hungry. Can you please buy me something to eat? If this would be in Europe or China, I would not give her a second look. But she seemed genuinely hungry. We agreed to her proposal and followed her into a small grocery shop that was conveniently located beside us. It took her a few seconds to find all the stuff she wanted, and they cost 30 euros. We were surprised and said that’s too much. She reduced her items very skilfully until it magically reached the exact amount we said we were ready to pay. When we walked out of the shop, we had a discussion whether the shop owner and the woman had some kind of a cooperation deal. Still I couldn’t get indignant or anything about the obvious scam. I myself have almost forgotten how it feels to be hungry. Who am I to judge that poor thin woman? In the gorgeously decorated guest house where we stayed for five nights in Cape Town, every morning some black women served us breakfast. All of them were extremely friendly but only one of them did not shy away from having prolonged conversations with us. She said she’s been working there for fourteen years. She said she wants to go to Germany and have a better life. She said she will take her teenage boy and never come back. She laughed heartily with a peculiar facial expression, a mixture of desperation and resolution, despair and hope. The morning we left, we bade each other goodbye on the porch in front of the impressive house. The sun was brutal for a spring day. We often say, it’s gonna be okay. “Okay” is really just a subjective perception. With a certain amount of getting-used-to, everything is indeed okay. Around my turning 30, my girlfriend group has been talking extensively about skincare on WeChat. They were sharing experience about Japanese gadgets and products that cost thousands of euros (next time you say Asians look young, think twice about how much time and money they invest in such a cause). As the laggard consumer living in Europe, I learned a great deal and was ready to buy everything my girlfriends recommended (some kind of crisis for sure). Then we were sitting in an Uber talking with the Zimbabwean driver that has to save money to take a bus to go back home once a year. Another driver told us since Uber came to threaten the taxi business, their salary was cut in half or even less. And I was watching all those black workers (not a single white one) lying by the street side to take a nap under the scorching sun. How much can you see as a passing tourist? How much can you see as a tiny person living in a tiny bubble of your own upbringing and surroundings? Is a dream a lie if it don’t come true, or is it something worse? May all our dreams come true in this lifetime.
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