Spaced out

One day soon I expect an enraged minibus conductor to come in search of me. I expect to hear a string of truly Guyanese expletives and the accusation of trying to buy my roti (unleavened bread) with someone else’s paisa (money).

Now when I walk down Regent Street I’ll have to keep looking over my shoulder to see if the man in question is behind me. But that might be a bit of a problem because I can’t remember what he looks like!

You see, on Thursday morning I woke up late, missed my usual morning ride to work and so it was a minibus for me. Not that I mind the minibuses on my route. They generally smell good. I whizzed by the big banks then sugarcane fields and then the uniformed housing schemes but I never really saw any of it.

And then I hit the city streets. Gray roads littered with scraps of things many of which I would not want to be able to identify. Here I was in the city where I currently spend most of my day. And I cannot tell you why or what I have to show for all the time I invest here.

These were the thoughts which consumed my mind when I jumped out of the minibus on Thursday morning. Yep, on Thursday morning I was so lost in thought that I forgot to pay the conductor. As I stepped into the office it suddenly hit me. I, who had been taught that the debts in this life will follow me to the next, now owe some stranger $100.

I’ll bet the poor conductor thinks I do it all the time. I’ll bet he’ll swear to his friends that I’m the sneaky girl who rides buses for free. I swear to you all. I absolutely did not mean to forget to pay the man. I can afford the bus fare on my salary at least.

At my age I guess I shouldn’t be this spaced out but then that got me thinking. I’m really closer to middle age than anyone realizes. And I’m not talking middle-aged at 50. Nope, no way! At age 50 your life is possibly almost gone.

Now think with me here for a moment. Based on my observations in recent times the average age of death for Guyanese seems to be 60. So suppose for a moment that you’ve only been granted 60 years on this earth; is 50 then half of 60? Aha! I got you there!

So technically at age 30 we’re middle-aged. Since I’m less than a decade away from that age it means I’m very close to being middle-aged. This is how I explain being so spaced out while I still look so young. Think about it.

So perhaps when that conductor does find me eventually I’ll try to run that explanation by him. And believe me, he will understand me. I know people with university degrees who conduct minibuses in this country!
Besides, with all the nonsense we Guyanese deal with – the goat-ain’t-bite-me government minister for example, who discovered he possesses political DNA while eating a bowl of cornflakes – people can’t blame us for being a bit spaced out. (srh.midnight@gmail.com)