I could see and identify everything around me and it seemed everything was just a copy of yesterday's, which was a copy of the day before yesterday, and so on. And I guess would be same tomorrow, and the day after tomorrow.
People are the same, rushing towards the same definite directions as yesterday. They live by the minute and worry much of what happens the next hour. It is the same with the big cities in the country I came from, but much different from the town I was born and grew up. People in my hometown live by the day instead of by the minute and anxious of what might happen the next year instead of the next hour. Time is pretty slow and lenghty.
The last turn towards my apartment building detached me from the bumper to bumper drive. I park just few meters away from the building door. People I have just passed by gave me, as usual, a how-in-the-world-he-is-driving such make of car. My car is not a luxury one, not even that expensive. But what make them give me that look as if I carnapped it is because I am driving a car of their country's make and that their look seems telling me that I should be driving my own country's make instead. Why Don't they race use Toyota, Hyundai, BMW, or Mercedes Cars not their own country's make
They are nice enough not calling 911 for a suspected carnapped car being driven by a member of the visible minority like me. Though not so many people give me such look; there are just a bunch of them.
I heave my other bag to my shoulder from the passenger's fron seat and go off the car. The same disrespectful schoolchildren that have just got out from their school service shout something at me again. I am not sure if they deliberately using an incomprehensible accent for me not to understand what they are yelling at me almost every day. Their school service dump them in front of the same apartment building almost the same time I arrive from work. So I meet these little rascals three or four times a week.
I know they shout the same thing; it sounds the same. It is a scornful one because I look so different among adults they know and see. And there are the older children as well who are polite and responsible enough trying to stop them from yelling at me and, as if they are adults already, they are reprimanding the younger ones. Then they will look at me and smile as if saying sorry for what those little ones do almost daily. I just smiled back.
For those schoolchildren, I look so different or may even be weird because of I look so differently from their father and other grown ups of their race. They have big eyes compare to mine which are small and chinky. Sometimes others make fun out of me by asking me why I am closing my eyes too tight everytime I am smiling and laughing. I know they were just joking so I usually gave them another smile.
My nose isn't pointed as theirs and stand shorter compare to most of them. Though I wear the same clothing but I could still be easily idenified as someone different in the midst of hundreds of them. Their skin color is white instead of yellowish like mine, as other people describe it. If not blondish, their hair is grayish and mine is black.
Walking towards the gym where I go every other night is relaxing and warms me up for my work-out. Before I reach the gym is Mc Donalds where I stuffed myself with protein, carbohydrates, potassium