It's been years since I've returned but there seems to be something beautiful yet haunting that whispers to me from this place. I long to return. Recently I've been wondering what it is that draws me here. I wanted to pin it down and I will make an attempt here: From the moment I step foot onto this land there are heavy odours of garbage, smoke and sweat that assault my senses. Mixed with the heavy, humid air and the noises of car horns and peoples voices, the first few seconds are overwhelming. It is unmistakable, you are somewhere completely new. Riding through the streets in the night you can only make out shadows of buildings, cars, roads, trees. But even in the dark of night life is illuminated as you watch people twisting by one another on roads and pass by frail bodies scooting under empty spaces for a nights rest. The car speeds through the street and all the lights and people and voices become too much so you close your eyes. And you are struck by the pleasure ...
For those of you who like me seem to spend most of your week on transit you will know what it is to partake in 'people watching'. Sometimes I'm really struck by the amount of people who we cross paths with on a daily basis. We have no idea what kind of lives they lead and what kind of stories their lives consist of. Transit commutes seem so mechanical and inhumane. During peak hours I honestly feel like we are being herded around like cattle. But once in a while you connect with a passer-by, usually in simple ways but it's always so surprising and powerful. It reminds you that we cross paths with real people everyday. I wrote this on a ride home almost a year ago: I saw a young woman sitting and talking to a young man on the bus. She had a little girl on her lap and a little boy sitting by her. The little boy gazed at the man as he spoke and grew more comfortable around him. The boy soon asked the man if he could sit on his lap and the man said, "No you...