I am still in Luanda; this city that i am not sure if I can call it city, according my way to see a city, this one is for me a huge township around a small growing new city.
I could say that my days here pass with out much to say, but to be honest there’s always something to say, in one city like this everything happens you like or not.
But me like always and with those badly written sentences, I try to spit my feelings, all I am living translated in signs, but honestly thinking, who cares?
I would like to say , that my past visits to the Defa ( immigration office), are already past, just because a sad ugly stamp on my passport allows me ( previous payment of course), to stay a bit more in this country, ill miss the funny experiences lived there, in the same way that I miss loved people , that in the end of the day those moments or peoples make my life how its.
The immigration office, the dirty streets of Luanda, are also part of me, those streets that when you first arrive are so strange to you , places so difficult to recognize, but one day like a easy click after being lost among them, they become part of your daily routine and suddenly loosing part of interest, and proving me again that I prefer to discover the unknown of new places , or new peoples.
In this country where the social difference between people is so immense that some people can only afford to say, who cares?
In this country where on my opinion, having a decent life it’s only a privilege of a few, wile the others wait for their last days in disgusting hospitals, or inside tin houses that can hide the reality from the view to the others , but that cannot silence the shouts of pain or wish to survive.
But, who am I to spit those words to the empty sky? Who am I to change anything? ,well I guess that in this country or any other country, I can only be who I am , Nando, just one more. And yes I would like to change so many things it’s true, I would like to get into the wounds and to cure them , but, who cares?…
Because in the end of the day my reality is only mine, and is made of what I offer or I can offer, that my pain or happiness are just the result of those people who surrounded me or are important to me. Because you know anybody that ever suffered for anybody that doesn’t know at all? I guess not, isn’t it? So dears who really cares?
And the reality is that our life are only made of what we really like, dreams or not, real or unreal, friends or enemies, justice or not, but in the end of the day what it makes our difference is , to have born in a better place, black or white, rich or poor, no matter where or how , we all going to feel the pain of our wounds , not those from the others that we don’t want to see.
In Luanda, to be honest the world isn’t more different than another place, the truth is that some people suffers like other peoples, and is also truth that’s very different depending of the social condition of everybody.
This is why I think that Luanda, and of course far from other realities that I would love that never happened, my life goes on happily, surrounded with happy and friendly people that in the end of the day are those that gives a sense of my life, and this is what is really important, because our life is made of those memories.
Even though in some place of this lovely world, a president of one European country laughs of their people organizing orgy’s for he’s friends, others cry because Jackson died, white or black no matter now,, and the Spanish soccer players complain that the (vuvuzuelas plastic trumpets), bother them, and of course nothing changed, still thousands of kids die everyday, but. Who cares? Life continues, no matter where, even in the musseques with or without money, but full of hope.
But again, who am I? just Nando happy to do what I am doing, and really happy to spit in words what I am feeling.
The other night I went to one birthday party, I almost knew anybody there but it didn´t matter, because black or white , rich or poor, we all had so much fun , and this is what stays , today, tomorrow till something better will happens.
Thanks Luanda to put me close to those that make me feels in life.
HEALTH AND GOOD JOURNEY, NANDO.
The truth that heurts is much better than the lie that makes you happy.