I walked up Long Street today. From the bottom just after running down the steps fom Mohamed the tailor at the Pan African market.
I stayed on the right looking left, caught a glimpse of Greenmarket square. Past mememe and their over priced panels of cloth put together by cheap thread.
Past the African music shop diagonally across from the Darkie store that lies round the corner from my final destination which today was the provincial parliament for a flm screening.
But I had time to kill, I came early enough to have time to rediscover that Wild Fire the place where I got my first and prolly ever only tat 3 years ago has moved onto Long. 210 Long street has gone through that 'gently coerced by your new husband operation' called gentrification - majorly. Mama Africa with newly painted portraits, their huge eyes surveying the streets from high above.
2nd time round still making money off dead Jewish peoples' earthly possessions.
Journey still tempting with their cute window display, I resist. I'm still waiting for 93 kilograms of unaccompanied accumulations from the Isle to arrive. Such gatherers these women my grand uncle would say.
Outside Zula there he is. The child whose been on the street since I moved here is still here. Long time sister, he says. Where did you go to? Very far away. Do you have something for me? No. I smile. But next time, I carry on walking thinking how much he has grown.I have no money in my wallet save for a few £2 coins coz I have a habit. Can't wait to carry on with my R5 coin collection again. Have 1 and a half jars filled. Fetish? No...hobby
Outside mojito diagonally opposite Lolas which is underneath overrated fiction, Jimmy Flex hollers my name. Just like on his skit on their album. First person I've seen who I know. He having a beverage with a certain DJ and an American tourist with seemingly no intentions of gettig onto a plane to Yank land any time soon. You've ben missing on the circuit. I've missed the circuit.What you up to? Don't know yet, something will work out though. Pat shoulder.Smiles. The lady with the curly hair who works at Labia pa**es by with her ready quick smile.The interactions with familiar strangers start once again.
Back down the road towards Wale street. I traipse the back route down Queen victoria this time. Company in the gardens will nice...soon. Hello Cape Town.
