The Price of a Smile
There is a lack of smiley faces here in Johannesburg. And I need them, thrive on them. Just a little something to bid me Welcome! The slightest hint, I'll take that. A change in expression, enough to fool me into thinking that you embrace my presence. Because I want to identify with you. Whether symbolic, or fake, like the nanosecond ones dishe d in pulsing metropolises like New York . Transform your face, let your smile hold sway over your mind. Summon the god of laughter, of joy, even if temporarily for the World Cup, because the world has converged on this great country for a month. I've recovered from my initial hurt on day two, when I discovered that you did that to everyone: talk to them in your own language - Zulu, mostly. I believed you thought I was one of you, felt momentary compatibility, somehow. All these tourists here, staying in apartments, hotels needing to shop for groceries in supermarkets, for AC/DC converters in hardware ...