DAY 10: You’re a diesel?

I love to meet new people. Sometimes it scares me because I never know what kind of people they will be like.  I like to use my mother’s dislike for oranges as an analogy for what it is like to meet new people. She says she does not like oranges because “you never know what it is going to taste like, it could be sweet or it could be sour which  puts me off entirely”.So meeting people is like pealing an orange in anticipation of a refreshing and healthy snack. You just never know what it is going to be like.

I was walking back from another good day at Rasta House along with my class mate when a woman suddenly started walking beside us. He was dressed in elaborate floral pants which seemed to be a size smaller than they should have been for a lady. She wore them with a bright red top. She told us that we look beautiful and she just had to walk beside us because we would make her look good.

We walked together and we listened to her talk about her clothes and how her sunglasses belonged to her late grandmother as well as a belt she had worn the day before. She told us she looked beautiful with it on. We got to our stop and we told her that we were about to leave and then out of the blue she pulled out a thick stack of money. She waved in our faces. In all honesty for a moment I didn’t care how she had gotten it, I found myself thinking that I would love some of it for myself.

“Where did you get that?”, I heard myself ask. She walked away dramatically and said: “That was the wrong question to ask.” I shouted to her, Okay, can I have some for wine then? She walked back and responded with a “no, its diesel money, I’m a diesel.” “What is a diesel” we queried. She told us she couldn’t explain what it was because we would not understand and she left us. In a moment she had disappeared into the market crowd, like she was not just with us.

It’s not the most interesting of stories but she was an interesting character and I still wander about her and what she meant by “I’m a diesel”. I’ll never know but I will always wander.

She was nice, a breath of fresh air from all the men that whistle and call out to us on every other day. She was funny and and sassy and confident and I wanted some of that  for myself.

This in-depth journey has added to my appreciation to the characters of this world, sour or sweet. This final stretch in my journey to becoming a good journalist continues to tech me about different people and how to handle them in all of their greatness.


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