Street musicians scattered along the peer, people strolling between. A pre-dawn glare. Six drumers with base and snare. Each of them with a set of symbols that shatter with the rhythms of their dance.
They have conquered silence. They empower the mothers with toddlers who are dancing too.
Mothers with barbaric arm-fling pelvic twists then squating to the ground.
I am making perfection out of this instant. It is garnished with greatness. Family-farming. High culture happiness. A beer bottle polluted lagoon.
But I am alone right now. Drinking a beer and a guy approaches and asks if he can have a drink of it. I say yes because this sort of thing is normal and I dont want to be an asshole, but he and his friend want the whole entire thing. After a series of concessions that i make in the conversation I realize that I am a stupid foriegner and his friend walks off with my beer. I am a stupid foreigner. What else is important?
Only sometimes this is the way.