First of all, for some reason, I found myself feeling so unsleepy last night. And again, I have no idea why. I fell asleep downstairs on the couch. But when I woke up to go and get in the bed, I just couldn't sleep.
I ended up calling my friend, E, back, another night owl. Well, we talked until it was time for me to put my clothes on-4:00 in the A.M. So, I started a brand new day without one drop of sleep. That kind of stuff was fine when I was 25. But now that I'm a 30's girl... Well, a night of no sleep takes a different toll on you.
Well, the travel to the airport was just fine. And I have no major experiences to report about my flight. But after I landed, things got interesting.
First of all, my taxi driver started putting the moves on me. But I'm used to that. For some reason, the taxi drivers, well mainly the African ones, that pick me up always try to pick me up in another way. If you know what I mean...
But I actually enjoyed the conversation of this particular taxi driver. He was quite interesting. Plus, his stories about the world, Africa, America, Africans in America, European colonization of Africa, and North African culture/customs/religion/food were exciting.
Did I give him my number? Nope... Why? Um, I'm not sure... It's probably because I don't make a habit of giving men that I just randomly meet a way to contact me via telephone. Plus, he seemed a little too old for your girl.
This brotha, who was bornin North Africa, told me that he thinks that I'm a very beautiful woman. He went on to say that I would be considered very beautiful in his native country, Morocco.
I usually don't blush when the taxi drivers put their mack down on me. But this brotha just had a little flair that was undeniably charming.
But moving on... Because the above was certainly not the point of this blog entry.
Well, after I arrived to the place where I was going, which was a rehab center for blind and visually impaired adults, I was suddenly overtaken with a weird feeling of familiarity. All around me was the sound of tapping canes, blind people enjoying the company and conversation of other blind people, and blind folks on the move to a life of independence. For some reason, I felt like I was in a land that was so close to me, but yet so far away. The sounds, the people, the energy was all too familiar. But I was a stranger to it all.
Why did I feel like a stranger? Why did I feel so disconnected?
Interestingly, the answer is simple. I felt so disconnected, so much like a stranger because I separated myself from the culture, the community, the connectivity of the blind community. Why, you might ask? Plain old self-hatred...
It reminds me of Blacks, who grew up in black culture, in the hood, around other lack folks. But when they got their first chance, they ran like hell from the community that they were raised in, simply because they wanted to distance themselves so much from the painful or negative aspects of that community or culture of people. So sad...
To be continued... I'll finish this up later this week. Maybe tomorrow...
Angela
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