Thoughts of a minibus traveller

Walk   Bright morning sun, lil breeze blowing and I set out to walk when I thought was not going to walk because I was afraid. Afraid because men on bicycles have robbed me in daylight and in twilight and in places where I did not think I would be robbed.   Afraid because men on motorcycles recently robbed two men I know in daylight walking in places where they did not think anyone would rob them and I have been thinking about that fairly empty stretch I would be walking Afraid because the journey was to the shraad rituals of someone my age and the sickness and death stories of men and others my age and younger got me afraid. I choose to walk though  Bougainvillea  I learn from listening to an online gaff with two white women in the morning that is good to imagine body as energy and exhaling good energies (or something like that). Did some breathing exercises.  Before that the Hindu woman born in Ghana from ancestors who had moved from India had led us in G...

Junction Bus drops me off at the junction. Agreement was for me to wait here.  Previous time which was my first time, I had to rush to get a car to move in  different direction. Kind of like life sometimes at cross roads when you just have to move. This time though, I can wait. There is no space really to wait. Heat and dust. Gas station. Minibus. Food place. Chinese stores.. the huge Chinese store with the smaller Chinese shops. Man sitting near a deep blue cart, coloured cloth covering some things. I think it must be food.  Move closer to him as there is nowhere else to go.  See the man hand moving steadily . Shaving ice.  I think to hell with sugar warnings and ask him for a small one. He points to the two customers waiting, one of them speaking in Spanish to the other. Both descended from Indian immigrants like me.  Hand moving quickly, smooth strokes over the block of ice nestled in a plastic bag.  Watch him open the shaver, put the trapezoid shap...