-^-for posterity-^-

i drive my bicycle to get a cup of coffee. about a year ago, everyone would be staring at me relentlessly. now people have stopped staring. we have become commonplace. there is nothing too odd about us. if we don’t have coffee at this one café at least three times a week, the waitresses ask us where we have been. we have amalgamated, albeit only in about a half mile radius.

i drove my bicycle in the middle of the morning heat. i have never seen the sun so hot as it is at 10 in the morning. it’s hotter at 1 in the afternoon but anyone who has any sense about them is already asleep. i cycle and sweat.

i drove by the photocopy shop, the university, the fruit ladies, the taxi drivers and the bicycle repair man. they didn’t look at me.

i drove on and on.

two people were on one motorbike driving my direction. they passed me, slowed down and drove beside me. the girl pointed at me and talked about me being a foreigner. the guy looked and laughed. they said something i didn’t understand and drove off.

in the past, a gesture like that would have been strange and rude. i got used to it. now, in my half mile radius of comfort, a gesture like that is humorous. they don’t realize that i’m normal here. they are pointing and staring at something that has cycled on this road countless times. they are the odd ones for not knowing. they are the foreigners. they have invaded my road and have pointed me out and i smirk because of it. they don’t know how common i am here and, by not knowing that simple fact, they are the strangers.