Sunday
On my way to the tavern I see the guy from house number 402. He’s painting his walls and has his back turned away from me. I walk as fast as I can so that I don’t have to greet him.
And I do make it past him without having to go through the trial of putting on a temporary smile for the greeting. It really does get irritating, this greeting business. The problem is that it’s inevitable around here, in fact around any township. From the moment I walked out of our gate, I’ve been smiling and singing hellos. Felt like Beyoncé for a moment.
There are always people out on the streets, giving you different types of looks, making comments if you’re wearing a pair of brand new Nikes, staring if you’re carrying a KFC packet. It’s not like the burbs where you can walk freely, where you can walk for almost an hour without bumping into anyone and having to greet them. No. Here the streets are always full and that’s why I hate going out.
The gents are always chilling at the corner playing their house music out loud. I can’t just walk past them. I have to greet them and so I do.
“Hola, gents!”
“Eita, daar bafanas! Dankie man, dankie man,” they respond.
The kids bro’s age, and younger, are always running around, kicking stones, getting up to mischief and asking us older ones for R1 to buy ice lollies. And again I have to greet.
“Hello bhuti!” one shouts, running towards me with her dirty hands and feet.
“Hello nana.”
“Bhuti please can I have R1 so I can buy ice.”
“Sorry, don’t have,” I say.
And then there’s the hustlers pushing their trolleys full of the fruits and veggies they sell.
“Ama veg ama veg ama veg ama veg! Zambani, tamatie, cucumber lettuce for the successful!”
“No thanks my brother! We’re good with veggie. Eita daar.”
You see if you don’t greet anyone, people just assume that you’re a snob or that you’re pompous. Sometimes that’s not even the case.
I’m heading to the shop now and I realise how slow I’ve been walking so I pick up the pace. I have to be back home before Mom returns from church. The faster I walk, the harder the beers bang against each other and the louder they get. I can’t run with glass bottles in the bag. They taught us better at school. If I fall and they break I could get injured. So I walk faster.
Outside the shop there are a couple of guys chilling there like always, talking their smack and whistling at young girls, making them feel uncomfortable, by calling them ‘yellow bones’ and ‘red bones’.
I greet the lady and start to ask her for two Med-Lemons … I think Gran said two … or is it one she asked for?
I ask for two just to be safe, “Two Med-Lemons and Colgate please.”
She walks over to the shelf and she comes back with the two sachets.
“What else?” she asks.
“Colgate please.”
“Uhmmm, which Colgate?”
She points to the red and white toothpaste which is of course Colgate: “This Colgate?” And then she points to the blue, red and white one which is Aquafresh, “or this Colgate?”
“The first one please.”
She opens the box but it seems to be empty.
“Eish, we only have the blue, red and white, let me go to storeroom to fetch the red and white one.”
***
Tell us: Are the streets lively like this where you live? If so, do you like it or not? Why?