One Week Exactly Since I Last Saw Him

I think I am missing Pape—Pape and the mosquitoes—just kidding.

Not about Pape, about the bugs and the cold water, toilets and spicy food. Last week at 1 AM I was wondering where the taxi was and after I woke the driver up, I wondered how long it would take for him to get to the house, how much he planned to charge me and if I had enough money.

I noticed both Suzanne and Kine, after cursing the drivers out for being stupid, gave them a tip. I found the communication interesting and noticed how the women especially those with more wealth supported the men or maybe the term was shared what they had with others. I didn’t get it, especially when Kine paid for dinner and the taxi—there were two women and two men. I gave her something for the taxi, but one of the passengers—a man, got out without paying.

I am in Oakland now and last week, this time, I was in line getting my ticket changed after having to pull a black woman from America attitude on these men who wanted to haggle me. Why bother giving anyone business when all they do is complain that it’s not enough.

Hella annoying. Makes you want to walk everywhere and let the folks with their hands out, starve. The squeaky wagon does not always get the spoils if they get in my line. I was putting money in the hands of folks who smiled and greeted me kindly.

After the plane took off without me, and the next plane almost did as well, I wrote for two hours straight. Ear plugs are a great way to focus—I couldn’t hear so I could ignore everyone and pour everything onto the page in front of me. I was going to type it, but by the time the light came on granting me permission to use FDA approved electronic devices, I’d already written too much so I kept writing in longhand.

I feel like I am on the airplane right now, it’s that cold in my room. I think I am getting acclimated…I am up late again.