Spain, Barcelona,
15 Nov. 2010.
¨Corre, Corre, Amigo, Ya vienen los Toros¨, and off they are, my fellow ambulant sellers, black as coal, their wares quickly wrapped in the blankets and sheets they sell them from out here in Port Vell in Barcelona, sunglasses and fake rolexes always good for making a quick buck in a tourist oriented city like the Catalunya capital, some fake gold and/or silver juwelry sold in the street by those that are illegal but had a head full with hopes for the future in the rich west when first they crossed the many loop holes of Fort Europe...
They run in the opposite dierction, away from Los Mossos D`esquadra who always love a good chase, run after illegal inmigrants from the dark continent and get a quick promotion...of course the white handmade Mandala seller is no serious option for them though they have clearly seen me and I can`t be bothered to run with my black newly found friends...just wait till this crazy cr*p is over and continue my ambulant activities...
In the end I find myself in a small bar paying a few Estrellas for my colleagues from the street whose life is made hard by local Toros - as these blokes call the coppers - remembering that if there is one thing an african male likes most apart from blond sex bombs, it is beer...my not so hard earned Dinero going down dark skinned thirsty African throats, a good way of making friends with people from a continent that have always beeen the downtrotten...
I tell them about my canoe trip down The Gambia River and the crazy backpacking I did in Sierra Leone looking for adventure in a country where blood diamonts made good fodder for child soldiers, my extra-marital affairs with Kenian hot Mommas in Nairobi, carefully leaving out my upcoming trip to Thailand...I don´t want these poor sods to believe I have plenty of D`argent and sell my games for old times´ sake...
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