Hallucinations In The Sun

The beginnings of craziness:

The swelter of a summer’s day stirs a sudden desire to perform regrettable acts, to disregard values that have governed life. As I strain to make my way home after a day at work the sun beats down with relentless pressure. I force one foot in front of the other and resist the urge to remain motionless - to shrivel up under its burning gaze. Concerns and frustrations coupled with the need to fit into a different culture, to be accepted and understood boil within. 

I straighten a paper clip and fix it in the Nissan parked in the car lot. I want to get in and drive away. The alarm goes off but I don’t care. I don’t care for the consequences, my instincts are not motivated by the need for a car. I just want a little attention. Sweat oozes from my pores. The reflection from the sun irks me. I want to scream. Now I understand why Camus’ Stranger pulled the trigger. The rays unravel crude instincts buried under frustrations and nagged by egotistic living and self-promotion. The sun messes with my senses, it melts my social conformity's, toasts my dignity and allover a sudden, nothing matters anymore. I turn the corner and see a man, the only other human being for miles. He is tall and fit, dressed in a light lavender shirt and black pants. I walk up to him and suggest something. A disconnection between what I believe and what I feel. I don’t care for his race. I don’t care that he doesn't know me. He says yes and we go our separate ways, forget it ever happened, we are strangers. The tension is released until another scotching sun roasts all my concerns in its flame.I won't see him again, he will move to a different city, use a different route and probably forget we ever met.

It has been 3 years since I saw familiar strangers on the street. We looked alike and spoke the same language even though our dialects were different. We crossed paths daily. On occasion we exchanged smiles. We were comfortable in the little city of Kampala. We shook our heads at the government’s lack of credibility and laughed at the same comedians on the taxi radio. Here, genuine smiles are few. We are permanently hypnotized by our gadgets; we download the latest apps, respond to office mail after midnight, advocate for animal rights, human rights, gun rights and the right to be wrong.

Cars whiz by, I come to a traffic light; red, yellow, green - it's my turn to walk across. The sun continues to play on my senses. I snap back into the present, my feet firmly on the ground - I keep walking.