My entire body is sticky from sweat and sweet fruit. The vendor had smiled so nicely to me, I felt that a refusal to his insistent sale might be taken as offensive. The pineapple had been tasty and quenched my thirst, but my fingers sticking together and the tightness around my mouth, I could’ve done without.
I clean the sides of my eyes and I’m not surprised to pull a dirty lump from the corners, the 30 minute tuk tuk ride from the airport this morning had me dodging sand being kicked up by larger vehicles. Many of my friends back home would not believe what I had experienced in the last 12 hours... I could hardly come to grips with it myself. I have never felt more alienated, like a nuisance just getting in the way of these people as they go about their daily lives.
How could I have thought this to be a good idea? Was my hatred of normalcy the reason for my erratic behaviour? I had found the courage to leave and now it seems I needed to find the courage to stay. I am snapped back to reality by a sharp pain behind the knees, an angry burst of fury reaches my ears and I realise I have gotten into the way of a biker, again. I look back into the angry locals face in the hopes that he can see how sorry I am just by my pleading expression.
I dare not speak, it won't do me any good.