Day on the town

 I was standing at the bus stop Saturday morning, waiting for a bus to take me to a dr. appointment, when my neighbors drove past. When they found out where I was going they offered to take me most of the way, so I hopped in. Once we arrived at their destination I walked on foot to the doctor's office. It took me a while to find the place because I had never been there and the directions I had been given included landmarks which had changed. I finally found the place and went in. I spent about five minutes with the doctor and that was that.

I called my friends to see where they were. They gave me a general idea and I started walking again. I ended up walking up and down four side streets before I found them. They were hanging out in a T-shirt shop whose owner is the world's biggest fan of John Denver. They had a girl with them whose father had once fixed John Denver's telephone line. The owner therefore thought her one of the most fascinating and important people he had ever met.

After that we visited a souvenir shop and two different "dollar store" shops. I had visited the souvenir shop before but the other two places were new to me (as was the T-shirt shop). Now I know where I can buy kitchen supplies for half of what I would pay at the regular places that expats shop. Of course the quality isn't the same, but for some things it doesn't matter.

 After that we visited a place where guys make sand paintings. I think that was the coolest part of the day. One of the guys showed us how they make the paintings and told us where each of the types of sand comes from. Some comes from this country and some from neighboring countries. As he listed off places I had visited I could visualize the red or white or dark brown sand at my feet. It had never occurred to me that such stuff could be turned into artwork. He said that even the glue comes from the sap of a local tree. I was highly impressed.

After that we visited two different grocery stores. One was an "American store" where I could have bought all kinds of American brand-name food for about twice what it would cost in the states. I refrained. The second was an Indian-run store that sells lots of British goods for cheaper prices than most of the French stores around. I loaded up there on all kinds of stuff. The price tag determines my diet, and if I am what I eat I will be British in no time!

All of this happened on a morning when I was expecting to do nothing but go to the doctor. In one morning I think I saw more new stores than I had seen in the past year. Not bad for an unplanned trip!