In the CBD, the streets stink of piss, bird shit and cigarette smoke. For hours, I stood in a queue that barely moved, was often completely stagnant, the air heavy with expectation and hope. At one point, someone I'd never met before greeted me like a long-lost friend, then told me a rambling and incoherent story I didn't follow, about an ostrich, his brother and short younger sister. I don't know what he wanted from me, if anything, so I ignored him. Eventually he got the message and went on his way. How bizarre, how bizarre!
About two hours in, my back went into spasm so badly that I could barely shuffle forward, each step a jolt of pain. After three hours of standing, the pain getting progressively worse (and dreading more to come), it proved too much and I hobbled back to my car, unsuccessful yet again.The annoying thing is that by the time I had driven home (about h, the spasm and pain had all but disappeared. If I had just gritted my teeth and held out for another half an hour or two, I might have been able to collect my ID card.
My ID card still remains uncollected, several months from when it was issued. I will have to go back another day, early in the morning, maybe with a folding chair or at least something on which I can sit. The night before, I should also prepare something to eat for breakfast, since I'll likely not have time in the morning. I should take a hat with me, too, in case I end up waiting in the sun.
Post image copyright Dr. M.A. Castillo
