a whole lot of new

It was another rather hot day today so decided to wait until the sun started to go down before I went out (well, that and it's a Saturday.) It's a funny how you don't notice a lot of things about a place until you've been there for quite a while, or gone home. It's almost as if there's so much to take in that your brain holds everything in, eeking out little tid-bits every now and then. Today, I had an eek. I've gradually been become aware of it for a while, but today, I became aware that I was aware of it. It is always noisy here, and every noise is new.

I live on the side of a hill with the town at the bottom of a short road. The road creates a small, welcome buffer for street noise so you don't have to hear it unless you want to. But, somehow, there is always noise. During a short 50metre walk you come across blocks of sound, as though walking into different rooms; the cricket (or very loud, leg rubbing bug of some kind) room, generator room, air con room. And then there is the intercom that can be heard in all rooms, generally blaring out music by the mopeds, chattering people, the sports fanatics or the garbage trucks.

(Before I go any further, a small note on the garbage trucks. The are unbelievable, or at least, I didn't believe anyone when they told me that they were the origin of the sound I was hearing. For day's I would get a little excited when I heard the noise, same time, every evening, and repeatedly I would be told, 'it is garbage truck,' but wouldn't believe them. Then one day I saw it, playing it's little (if not rather loud and repetitive) ice cream truck tune. Even though I had been warned, I still did a double take as I saw people running after it with their rubbish bags instead of their money. And you'll never guess what... the trucks have different tunes! I've heard about three different ones so far, but they still all sound like they belong at a carnival.)

This evening (the sun was set but the humidity was still very high) I went to the fruit market with a couple of friends. I'd never had the opportunity to go at night before so hadn't expected anything other than the usual couple of fruit stalls. Turns out, the whole place fills with stall of fresh produce at night. I was fascinated (although, my friends didn't seem to see why so left me wondering around gawking at things.) Just past the fruit stalls I found fish stalls with paper strands twirling above them (I'm not sure why, could be a smell thing.) A little bit after a massive pile of tripe there was a dish of octopus tentacles the size of my arm. Then a little after that, the shins (complete with feet) of cows. Aware that I was beginning to gape at things, I assumed the I'm-not-really-an-easily-amused-foreigner pose and walked on nonchalantly. That was until – the lone chicken. I had to use my best efforts not to laugh as I spotted a table with nothing on it but a dead, plucked chicken with its head hanging over the side (as in the photo.) It looked so much like a stereotypical rubber chicken I had 'Fun House' flashbacks (maybe I'm the only one who remembers that show.)

I love how things that seem completely normal to some people, are completely not to others.