While fireworks painted the sky with sulphur, charcoal and nitrate, my head was bobbing in a basin full water. My moans echoed down the drain and that's when i heard it again - you know, that still, small, inner voice? Funny thing is, mine isn't still or small - it's a big neanderthal man who offers me wisdom as bad rhyming couplets and puns. Standing with a rock above his head and bone through his nose i heard him say:
"Fireworks in sky not in eye"
Yes... yes, i realise.
I enjoyed the whole event despite having one teary, burning swollen eye with which to view the world.
"red-eyed rookie must eat fortune cookie"
I also bought a red balloon so i was easy to find. Turns out being almost 6-foot amongst a crowd of 5- footers is enough of a clue that i'm alive.
I digress to impress.
Point is, we managed to park in a fairly well lit side street close to the festivities. Little did we know however, that all a well lit street on Commissioner provides is a chance for people to actually see you get hijacked.
But we braved the street anyway and it was worth it.
Commissioner street transformed into little China and highlighted the booming Chinese market of downtown Joburg. It was a melting pot of sound, smell and person. The fireworks were some of the best i'd ever seen and left us all a little more than blinded. Shell shocked and full of ash i stood standing with my big red ol balloon smiling and tearing at the the fire in the sky, the bravery of those around me and the dodgy heartbeat of an infamous street full celebration rather than desperation.
Once the dancing lion had made its way to the end of the street, the event was over and people just seemed to scatter in a matter of minutes. The remnants of the happy go lucky rainbow national crowd we stood in five minutes earlier were now just skittish shadows across abandoned buildings. No matter who you are, there are parts of Joburg that'll first steal your courage before anything else.
Sensing imminent danger - we approached two policeman getting into their vehicle and asked if they'd escort us. The reply was simple - "no, we're not going that way". I knew commissioner street was dangerous but damn, it's so dangerous that even the coppers refuse to go in it's direction.
So Gabrielle and I took a deep breathe and ran. Yes, we ran. Upon arrival we slowed as the sight of a foreign body standing at the car... no wait, he's at the door... no wait... he's getting into the car and bam. Just like that - he sits in my car - casual like. We had two options. The one was to run toward the vehicle screaming or to run away - screaming.
We took the third option. We just screamed.
The intruder who was by now so confused at what there was to steal in my car, eventually realised that our screams where in his honour. Seeing the disparity of my vehicle, I'm sure he contemplated leaving behind a few rands for me, but a good criming is all about the timing and so he casually slipped back out the vehicle as quickly as he had entered. Our screams had roused a fleet of men that bolted after nothing but a wispy footprint of man. We didn't hang around to see what had happened.
So we got in the car -grateful to still have it. I closed my eyes, put my foot down and drove. I don't know how we made it actually - what with my blindness, our shell shockednes and the horror of how blatantly incompetent the police force is.
Anyway,
I digress.
The point is - gratefulness. It's the year of the horse right - so no long faces?
