Showing posts with label Sudan. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Sudan. Show all posts

Monday, October 27, 2008

I Think I'm Turning Sudanese, I Think I'm Turning Sudanese...

I really think so.

So, yesterday, I was standing at a traffic light and rearranging my heavy weekend bag when this guy walking towards the corner and smiles at me as though we're old work pals. He then says, "nice hair!" in the same manner that a teammate might congratulate someone for a really good throw or something.
I smile weakly, as I've learned to do as a solo traveller, and he keeps going. "Yes, nice hair indeed.... Are you by any chance from Sudan?" I said no and smiled weakly again, and was grateful for the WALK sign.

This was not only odd because of his randomness and over-friendliness (I mean, even for Australia, it was too much), but because this was the second time someone had asked me if I was from Sudan. A couple days earlier, I was waiting for the train and I can feel this guy staring at me. Of course, I make sure to make no eye contact, but as the train comes I look in his direction, which provided him with the in he needed.
"Are you from Sudan?" he asks.
"No," I say as I board the train.

I think "are you from Sudan?" is code for "Are you a lady of the night?" cause it's just the most random of questions, and there are mad ladies of the night up in the city center.

Aside from perhaps being considered a prostie, things are ok. I spent the weekend in Kiama, a small beachside town 2 hours south of Sydney, where I hung out with my "Aussie mum." I met "Aussie mum" back in August in NYC, at the 50th birthday party of my favorite Australian. Aussie mum had a cig in one hand and a glass of red in the other and as we all danced to Michael Jackson, she said, "Oh, when you come to Australia, call me--I'll be your Aussie mum!" I knew right then that she was the one for me.

Her house is on an acre of rainforest in this tiny town complete with a butcher, a baker, and a candlestick maker (seriously--candles). Her son is an actor, and he and his gf happened to be around this weekend too, so I got to meet them both. Her husband was also around briefly (and he is a silver fox, I must say), and we discussed the election and how lame McCain is. They're very down for Barack here.

It was a very Australian weekend, complete with my first meat pie (surprisingly good), lounging on the beach, dinnertime barbie (bbq--not the doll), and midday cocktails at a town pub where a bush band played. Most of the time it was just me and Aussie mum, and she cracked me up. As I took advantage of her free internet, and profusely apologized for being online, she assured me she understood, for she too was an internet addict.
"It's just so great," she said. "You can find anything you need to know. I just love finding answers. I'll just be sitting around and I'll wonder 'Who invented hi-lighters?' and just go find out."

God bless her soul.

It was a really nice, relaxing weekend, and it was great to get out of the city and see more than just the tourist spots. Kiama's claim to fame is a giant blowhole--i kid you not--which can send water shooting up 3-4km.
I don't know if that's high or not, since I don't know anything about kilometers.
I also don't get the whole Celsius concept, which means I'm inappropriately dressed every day, unless I can google, "Sydney current temperature in Fahrenheit" the day before.
I'm so lost in translation, just call me ScarJo.

In random news: I got the following text from the Random Older Fellow this morning: "Want to come have steaks with me and my mum?"

This is not the first time he has invited me out to join him and his mother, people. I do NOT understand it one bit. Why would I want to hang out with his 90-year-old mom? And, like, what would he say? "Mum, this is the blacktress who was sleeping in the hostel I work at part-time when I'm not fighting fires or trying to woo younger women."

I joined him and some firemen buddies last Friday at a pub, and he told me that he didn't like Australian women. I mean, I understand ruling out a whole group (you know, like actors, or Greek men), but he lives in Australia. If he doesn't like Australian women, then he's in for a bit of a problem. He says they aren't "challenging," which is ridiculous--since when do grown men who quote lines from Anchorman want to be challenged?

He's pretty fun to talk to, and his fellow firemen friends were strapping as all get out!!! Many of them were in my demographic, and I wished ROF wasn't cock-blocking my flow, cause I could have been in there like swimwear. I was so tempted to say, "You boys should do a calendar," but being out of my element, I wasn't ready to put such things out there. Well, that, and the fact that I have no sexual desire whatsoever.

I kid you not. I do not want sexual eruptions of any kind, with anyone. On the rare occasion I do see someone attractive, the recognition only lasts a second before I just shrug it off and imagine how boring he'd be, or what little we'd have in common. I don't know what has become of me. Hopefully I'll get my mojo back soon so this blog can get really juicy!