Morning

Early in the morning I get up and go for a walk before the sun heats up the roads and the wind kicks up the dust. Its nice being up so early, the streets are desolate except for some dogs running around looking for something to eat. At first, I got a jolt, thinking they would come after me, but then soon, I realized they are not interested in humans, unless they have food in their hands. Early in the mornings, I can see people waking up, servant people washing down front porches and drive ways, and kids getting ready for school. The roosters greet me, and I find peace in the smells of the morning.

Our neighborhood appears to be mid-to-low class in its make up. Some houses are super elaborate with electronic fencing, tile driveways bordered with large palms, while other homes appear to be slightly above waddle and dab. There is no rhyme or reason to the housing or the roads. Our road is paved, albeit very dusty from the dirt roads that transect it. The city was not planed on any type of a grid system, so roads look like they sprung up, like they were cut into the landscape by rushing water that fingers out across the land. Their topography is more likely a result of foot trails in the jungle made by the rubber tapers during the rubber boom at the turn of the 20th Century.

The road that we are on leads up to one of the two main highways going into the center of town and is blessed by a large Catholic church on the corner surrounded by Mango trees where we often retrieve delicious fruits. This is a very good location for us. There are two butchers, a bakery, a mercantile, and numerous fruit stands within walking distance and the church where Matthew studies is a 10-minute bike ride away. The main highway is where I‘ve started taking my morning walks, out of a sense of security because I know I wont get lost if I stay on this main road. Along this road is the butcher that I go to, an older gentleman, short and stout, like yoda, with glasses, who finds it very curious to have a white woman come in and speak a Spanish/Italian bastardization of Portuguese. The first few times, he didn’t say much to me, just the total of my purchase. But on this last morning walk, I waved to him and he waved back! Yeah, I’ve made a friend.

I’ve been walking for about a week now and the stares have become somewhat less. When I first went on my walks, in my new uber-white New Balance shoes, MP3 player and Baby Bjorn, I felt totally bourgeois-y, like Angelina Jolie in Setswana with slightly smaller lips a bigger hips. But now, I think the people have gotten used to seeing me steadily walking along the pothole stricken sidewalks and actually nod a good morning to me. I think I’m gonna like it here…