datadictator's Journal: The streets of Jozi.

Ah, the streets of Jozi (Johannesburg).
What a place. Surely there is no other country with cities like South-Africa has, and no city with streets like Jozi.

I walk those streets every day. I leave my office in the braamfontein downtown behind a few time a day for a walk around, and I just enjoy looking at it.

These streets are alive, they have breath and heartbeat and a culture all their own. A thought pattern unmatched.
There is a locksmith across the street, who has run that little store of his for fifty years.
That still exists here.

There are beggars too, cops and robbbers, hijacks and sales. Like a scale that swings from one extreme to the next in an instant, in between lies the people.

You either love this city, or you hate it. Depending on which moment you feel part of it, it's a love-hate relationship that alters each and every moment without fail.
Some cannot handle that rythm, they leave. The rest of us are scared of the inevitible boredomn of anywhere else.

"Jozi is a town where you wake up to the sounds of birds coughing" say Cape Townians, ironic, because Jozi has less polution than Cape Town (no ships or nuclear generators around here) and we retort
"A Capetownian is defined as: someone who couldn't find employment in Jozi"

Ah what a city, gorgeous and ugly in the same scene. Life and death, shit and yoghurt, wedding flowers and funeral flowers.

A toast say I to the life of Jozi, of course we can improve things, must improve things. But we can never do that if we lose sight of what is allready beautifull.
Yes we need to get Felicia Mabuza Suttle of the air for the sake of all mankind. Yes we need to ban taxis.
But buy a darn flar of a poor gal as well.