November 27, 2008
There was very little English being spoken. There were not many tall blue eyed whites, like me. The city stunk of mechanical fumes, air con units, transport. There were rotting gutter smells too, being ignited by the heat, the careless tossing of garbage. Store fronts were messy and cheap; expensive and glamorous. The people mirrored this also. Other people pretended not to stare at me. "You are a thing of beauty walking among us" a Japanese friend told me once. He tried to sleep with me, unsuccessfully. This city, I loved. This city, I didn't love. This place was home.