It has only been in the last few weeks that I have become properly comfortable in this new city I live in. I know of a few places to have a good cup of coffee, a good place to get soup, a few good bars, and I no longer have to ask for directions. This is good. I don’t feel like a tourist anymore. I think part of the reason it took me so long to relax here is something to do with how many small things I notice. I have been distracted by all the little things I’ve seen here, little things that I have never seen anywhere else. So here is a list of a few of them, in no particular order:
1. Two large groups of people, on either side of an intersection, dancing to two separate busking musical groups. It was hilarious. And beautiful. At least 30 people in each group, dancing unashamedly to the beat of the nearest drummer. I was hungry for bbq shapes, but forgot all about that for a few minutes. I wish I had my camera with me.
2. A street sweeper filling up at a fire hydrant. I was in a taxi, going home from work at 4:30 in the morning when I saw it. I have never considered how the street sweepers get their water before. Now I know. It made me smile to watch him.
3. The SBS news played on the side of a building. I was sitting at a café in federation square drinking some tea and I realized the giant screen 200 metres away was broadcasting the news. I couldn’t hear anything, but I watched it anyway. I don’t like television, but at in that moment, I’m glad it was there. The news finished, and Insight came on. I made an effort to stop watching, and started to write this list instead.
4. A pool of blood bigger than my torso, shaped kind of like New Zealand. The blood was so bright it was nearly pink. I saw it come out of the owner’s nose. I handed him a tea towel full of ice to put on it, and when he looked up to thank me, the blood was gushing out of his nose into his mouth and down his chin. After everybody had left, I took a photo on my phone of the blood pool, because not only was it very large, and looked like New Zealand, but it was also free of any foot prints. I thought this was quite a feat, given that there were at least 10 people involved in the fight, not including bystanders.
5. An attractive male with a razor scooter slung over his shoulder. This was another one viewed from a taxi. He was tall, skinny, wore good shoes, had a hip fashion sense etc, but the scooter was out of place. If he had the scooter, why wasn’t he riding it? Was he just picking it up for his little brother? Did he find it on his journey? Or was the road on too much of an uphill incline? My drunken friend, also in the taxi, yelled out something derogatory to him as we drove past. But I liked scooter man. Do something with enough calm authority, and you can get away with it, in my eyes at least. Seeing that guy made me miss the razor scooter we had at my house back in Perth. I like razor scooters. That thing was fun.