Taking Flight

I have lived in forests and mountains, on the beach and cities. I am absolutely BLACK when it comes to cities. I hate city living, and can’t imagine how people can go for holidays to major cities unless it is to pursue a specific interest, which does NOT include shopping.

Unfortunately my circumstances dictate that I should live in a city now, so I do that with a mighty deal of grudge.

I did study, like all the people around me did (correction, only those with ‘our’ socio-economic backgrounds), but it all came to naught as I never had the temperament of a corporate professional. Everybody around me studied economics, so I did too. Acute boredom with the subject and the recognition that it was something best left to others saved me from further agony.

So there was I, with passion for life and its possibilities but no focus whatsoever. I had withdrawn from the life I always thought I was going to live, and all I could think about was that I was unhappy with the weather of the place where I lived.

Under the circumstances I did what I thought was best, I took flight.

Literally.

I bought a one-way ticket to the capital of my very large country of origin.

I had nowhere to go, did not speak the language, and knew no one.

I had with me the kind of money that a student with an interest in orphans of immigrant labourers would have - that is to say - very little, because most of it went to buy Christmas gifts, birthday gifts, 'get well soon' gifts, 'well done' gifts, ‘I know you will do well’ gifts and 'never mind' gifts. But I am not a Future Planner – so I wasn’t bothered.

I rejoiced in the brightness and colour, all around me, of my new surroundings. It was a treat to not have to wake up to dreary weather - beiges, browns and grays at the shop windows - and pale people. The smarter the people (people who went to work in the city) the more boring they looked.

At that time, I preferred the dust on the roads shimmering in the sunlight.